Dead Man's Chest: An Affectionate Parody
by Willofthewisp
Summary: Like any good sequel to a movie based on a theme park ride, this is darker, edgier, and just more pirate-y! Everyone's a bit evil, the CGI is amped up to 11, and the anachronisms and brutal honesty are still intact, amid all kisses of death.
1. The Avant Garde Opening Scene

Do you ever wonder what happened immediately after the events of _Curse of the Black Pearl_? Ted and Terry obviously didn't and decided instead to have an entire year pass so we are suddenly fast-forwarded to an image of raindrops spattering against delicately patterned teacups. Just as you are beginning to wonder if you stumbled into the wrong movie in spite of the opening title having previously been shown, we cut to a familiar face.

Elizabeth sat, mesmerized by the droplets of rain on each petal of her bouquet. The once fertile patch of grass meant to be the aisle her father would escort her down was now nothing but a mud pile against a stormy green sky. Suddenly, she felt the way she felt back when she was thirteen and catching James leering at her when she bent over.

There was Will, her groom, shackled and dragged by several armed men. Where in the world had he gotten that ascot, Elizabeth wondered as she ran toward him. And that hat. It's like it's too small for his head.

"Will, why is this happening?"

"I don't know," he said. "You look beautiful. And what a lovely wedding dress! Baby poop colored?"

"Yes, just as I had always pictured my wedding dress," she sniffled. "I think it's bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding."

"The fact it's pouring down rain and I was abducted from the blacksmith shop also seem to contribute," Will said thoughtfully.

"Make way, let me through!" They looked over to the side to see Governor Swann pushing through the guests crowded under the overhang. "Ruthless parasites! You're all the reason there was not going to be an open bar at the reception!" He turned towards the short man who looked like he was in charge. "How dare you! Stand your men down at once!"

"Governor Weatherby Swann. It's been too long." The man turned to face the camera at the same time a clap of thunder roared over the horizon. Somewhere in the distance, a horse stood on its hind legs and let out a panicked whinny. Further into the distance, the Phantom of the Opera played out five ominous notes on a massive pipe organ.

"Cutler Beckett?" Governor Swann asked, incredulously.

"It's Lord now, actually. We'll have to sit down to tea and scones so we can catch up!" Beckett clapped his hands together. "Oh it'll be so much fun! We haven't talked since Young Leaders of Tomorrow Camp. Remember those boys who made fun of us because of our strange first names? I had them beheaded! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

Everyone gasped. The Swann family hadn't exactly held the most pristine reputation as of late, what with the young governor's daughter spending nights on islands with pirates and marrying blacksmiths of all people, not to mention that scandal where Governor Swann insisted he "did not inhale."

"William Turner and Elizabeth Swann are under arrest," Beckett continued. Half of the armed guards enthusiastically let go of Will for a chance to grope, I mean, restrain Miss Swann.

"On what charges?" she demanded.

"I also have a warrant for a James Norrington." He held it up and waved it around for the crowd. "Is he present?"

Disguised as a peg-legged hobo, Elizabeth's former maid Estrella considered raising her hand and declaring herself James Norrington. He was a Commodore, rich, a man in a man's world. As a Commodore, the amount of power she would have would make the power a governor's daughter had small potatoes indeed. But it sounded like the man was in trouble, so she stayed hidden.

"Commodore Norrington resigned his commission some months ago," Governor Swann said.

"Oh," Beckett said. "Surely that has NOTHING to do with you guys. But that's not what I asked."

"Lord Beckett, in the category of questions not answered…" Will gritted his teeth.

"Oh, I know!" They all looked behind them to see Mercer, Beckett's henchman waving his arm wildly in the air. "What is, 'what is the mark Jack left on Beckett?'"

"This isn't _Jeopardy_," Elizabeth fumed. "We are under the jurisdiction of the King's governor of Port Royal and you will tell us what we are charged with." She knew that day she stole her veil would come back to haunt her. But the dress had just been so damn expensive! To sell her the dress and the veil at that cost was robbery! Arrest the people at David's Bridal, not her!

Governor Swann took one of the warrants, applied his monocle, and read out loud.

"The charge is 'conspiring to set free a man convicted of crimes against the crown and empire and condemned to desk…'"

"That's probably 'death,' Father."

"Oh, so it is! Sucked all the drama out of that sentence, didn't I? The punishment for said crime is…"

"Also desk. Fuck. I meant, 'death,'" Beckett said, an icy raindrop trickling off the corner of his hat and plummeting to the ground. "Perhaps you remember a certain pirate named Jack Sparrow."

"Captain!" Will and Elizabeth corrected him.

"Hey! That's the guy we branded way back when!" Mercer said, adorning some brass knuckles and punching his own knee. His eyes rolled back in pleasure at the sound of bones crushing.

"Captain Jack Sparrow, what a dreamboat," Beckett sighed. "How could anyone forget him?"

* * *

**A/N: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, character and work of the same name, or _Jeopardy. _The opener is sort of inspired by the first time I saw DMC. I was so hyped up on that I was actually seeing a sequel to one of my favorite movies of all time that it rendered me a two-year-old with the attention span of a gnat. My mind was trying to process DMC's beautiful opening and all it got was, "Thudding heartbeat...title card...teacups in the rain! Oh, it's like a Monet painting! How Colonial! Who the hell is this girl?" Yes. I did not recognize Elizabeth at first. Go ahead. Let me have it.**


	2. The Compass Fails But Monkey Works Scene

"Say, Candy and Ronnie, have you seen them yet/But they're so spaced out, Bennie and the Jets/Oh but they're weird and they're wonderful/Oh Bennie she's really keen/She's got electric boots a mohair suit/You know I read it in a magazine/Bennie and the Jets," Gibbs sang against the rigging of the _Black Pearl_, she herself still recently liberated from the Aztec curse and waiting for her Captain to finish his business at a mysterious Turkish prison.

After many hellish images, the camera concentrated on two men flinging coffins into the sea. They floated calmly in the ocean, a veritable River Styx for the dead prisoners. A crow landed on one and began pecking at it. Suddenly, a shot blasted from within the coffin, the corpse of the crow splashing into the water with a cartoonish KERPLUNK.

Captain Jack Sparrow emerged, somewhat disoriented and disgusted by his latest misadventure, being flung from a giant cliff in a coffin and all. Rowing back to the ship with the bones inside the coffin, he met up with Gibbs on the deck.

"Did ye get it?"

"Sure did," Jack said, thrusting a paper bag into Gibbs' torso. "That's the hardest Shipdonald's to get into. You're lucky they weren't out of Happy Meals."

"Ah, Shipdonald's," Gibbs sighed. "Shipwreck Cove, it's rumored, has one on every corner, those splendiferous golden arches with pirate blood smeared on them. Every time I walk in it's 'Welcome to Shipdonalds, are you having a Shiptastic day?' What customer service." He opened his Happy Meal and reached for the toy, but then suddenly Jack the Monkey leapt out of nowhere and took it. Jack opened fire.

"Don't shoot at it!" Leech the New Guy snapped. "PETA will be on our asses!"

Marty ran over to the discarded toy and opened it, revealing a scrap of cloth inside. He unrolled it and exclaimed, "It's a key!"

"No, much more better." Jack swiped the cloth and held it open for his crew to see. "This is a draw-ring of a key. Gentlemen, what do keys do?"

"When a key and a chest love each other very much…" Leech the New Guy began. "No, that's not how it went."

"Indeed that is not how it goes at all, but good job pointing out the phallic imagery in this movie," Jack said. "Keep trying."

"This key will unlock a chest…" Marty thought out loud.

"And when it does, if they love each other, there will be a litter of new baby keys!" Gibbs cried, inserting his thumbs into his vest. "It's all settled. We'll pick up a few diapers and Baby Mozart tapes at Wal-Mart and throw the chest a shower!"

"Well," Jack started, not wanting to disappoint them. "If we don't have the key, we can't open whatever it is we don't have that it unlocks. So what purpose would be served in finding whatever need be unlocked, which we don't have, without first having found the key that unlocks it? Questions?" He looked at his crew, realizing he barely knew their names except for Gibbs, Marty, Cotton, Cotton's parrot, and Leech the New Guy. Since they seemed to be the only ones who ever survived, he considered not bothering to pay the other guys.

"Do we have a heading?" Marty asked, just happy to have lines this time.

"Ah! A heading." Jack threw up the lid to his compass. "Set sail in…" he trailed off, his eyes following the arrow of the compass, redder and bolder this time around, spinning in different directions. "Uh…that way!"

"Are you sure?" Gibbs asked. "Is that what it told you?"

"It told me I could use some me-time, if you know what I mean," Jack said, disappearing into his cabin.

"I be noticin' the Captain seems to be acting a bit strange-er," Marty said.

"Setting sail without knowing his own heading might seem strange for the average captain, but this is the guy who roped a couple of sea turtles and used them as a raft."

"Gibbs, you don't still believe that story, do you?"

"Don't take my sea turtle story away from me. Aye, something's got Jack vexed and mark my words, what bodes ill for Jack Sparrow bodes ill for us all."

* * *

**A/N: I do not own Elton John songs or the McDonalds franchise. Or PETA. Or POTC.**


	3. The Scene Where Will Acts Spineless

Back in Port Royal, Will, still bound, was hauled into Beckett's office.

"Those won't be necessary," Beckett said of the chains. "The East India Trading Company has need of your services. We wish for you to act as our agent in a business transaction with our mutual friend Captain Sparrow."

"More acquaintance than friend," Will said, purposely selling out Jack. "How do you know him?"

"We've had dealings in the past." Will's eyes drifted to a Jack shrine in the corner of the room very similar to the one he himself had back at the blacksmith shop of Elizabeth. That seemed suggestive, especially the stick figure of Jack on a balance beam with… "We've each left our mark on the other." Beckett crossed to the fireplace and held up a branding iron.

"I see," Will said. "And was this mark, ahem, penetrating?"

"Unrequited and completely nonexistent," Beckett sniffled, wiping a tear from his eye and then regained his composure. Will tilted his head to look over the desk to find several emptied cartons of ice cream strewn at the feet of the chair. "By your efforts he was set free. I would like you to go to him and recover a certain property in his possession."

"Recover? At the point of a sword? I do so like swords. I make them for a living, you see, and I practice with them three times a day, sometimes with my fiancée. I like swords. Do you want me to use a sword? Because I can. I'm not your average blacksmith. I like swords."

"Yes, I understand. You may bargain, if that would be easier. These are letters of marque. You will offer what amounts to a full pardon. Jack will be free, a privateer in the employ of England. It's like being a pirate only with restrictions and pension plans."

"Employment? But Jack is already the CEO of coolness!" Will argued. "He was the one who talked me out of buckled shoes and got me these pimped-out boots!" He lifted up his foot for dramatic effect. "The hat and ascot were my own idea."

"Jack Sparrow is a dying breed." Beckett stood by the window while a large clock was being hoisted outside, its hands showing the time 10:10 in case you're in a trivia contest. "The world is shrinking, the blank edges of the map filled in. Jack must find his place in the new world or perish. And by perish, I mean, figuratively, underneath me, moaning out the name Cutler until the cows come home…"

"I'm sorry. I thought we were having a G-rated discussion," Will snapped.

"Oh yes. You know, if you haven't already decided to change teams and have a one-night stand with me, you and your fiancée face the hangman's noose."

"So you get Jack and the _Black Pearl_?" Will asked. It didn't seem quite fair. What did he get out of this? Elizabeth?

"The _Black Pearl_? His ship? Hardly. The item in question is considerably smaller and far more valuable, something Sparrow keeps on his person at all times…so I'm told. I haven't been stalking him. His compass. Ah, you know it. Bring back that compass or there's no deal."

"So wait, how do you know he keeps it on him at all times?"

"He's a man who lives on a ship," Beckett said. "Where's he going to leave it, his swinging penthouse?"

"This seems like just as effective a MacGuffin as the Aztec gold was last time," Will breathed.


	4. The Scene That Only Talks of the Monster

Jack eased his way into his chair and pulled out his charting tools. Widening his eyes to keep from falling asleep, he unfolded his map with one hand and massaged his temple with the other. Going on that Shipdonald's run had been exhausting enough, but he had promised the crew a long time ago he would take them to Chuck E. Cheese. He could imagine it, innocently going down a slide into a room full of plastic balls in the primary colors as a horde of rabid children…and his crew…descended on him and drowned him. He shuddered, only able to think of one worse death.

Tapping the compass, it waivered and then shifted directions. Apparently, thinking of Chuck E. Cheese hadn't been enough to erase the two things that had been on his mind for the last year. Each made it impossible to think during the day and impossible to sleep at night…for different reasons.

This is all getting way too introspective, Jack thought, reaching for his rum. The bottle felt lighter than usual, only a drop clinging to the rim.

"Why is the rum always gone?" he muttered, heading down into the hold, careful not to step on the crew sleeping in the hammocks. "As you were, gents," he said, mostly to himself, adjusting their nightlight and pulled up Cotton's blanket so it covered his shoulders. What little angels.

"Time's run out, Jack," a voice that sounded like it hadn't spoken in years said.

"Who's there?" Jack followed the voice to the corner of the hold where he could just barely see a face so pale it looked like the full moon against the night sky.

"You must avenge me!" the voice wailed. "Aveeeeeeenge me! So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear! I am thy father's spirit, doomed for a certain term to walk the night. Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder, murder most foul."

"This is the crew of the _Black Pearl_, Bootstrap," Jack said, rolling his eyes. "No one's going to get the _Hamlet _references but me." Squinting past the coral reef likeness and the cockroaches skittering across his waxen face, he could see his old friend Bill Turner in the mess.

"Oh. Well, I was just fucking with you anyway. Guess I don't need this." Bootstrap threw off the white sheet he was wearing and tossed it into the corner. "Figured my face was white enough I didn't have to cover it. You look good, Jack. Hey, I got a good one for you. Why did the whale cross the road? Hmm? To get to the other tide! Of course, the whale would probably beach himself if he got the wrong tide. Actually, that's not funny at all. Damn that Squidward for telling me that joke! Fuck it to hell!"

"Well, I know where Will got his Tourettes," Jack said.

"Will? You know Will? So he ended up a pirate after all." Bootstrap's face fell. "Well, I have all eternity to dwell on my bad parenting. You, on the other hand, don't have much time left at all. HE sent me."

"HE?"

"Yep. All caps and such. I stood up for you, after the mutiny, but ended up at the bottom of the ocean for it, the weight of the water crushing down on me, unable to move, unable to die. I felt just like Oprah. I took an opportunity. You made a deal with him, too. He raised the _Pearl _from the depths for you, gave you thirteen years as captain. If you refuse your hundred years of solitude…"

"Servitude."

"Oh. Sorry. I was in the middle of this great book… It'll be the Locker for you! Jones' terrible leviathan will find you and drag and your ship to the depths!" Bootstrap stood, chewing on a roach that had wandered its way into his mouth.

"Locker? Leviathan? Depths? You're giving away the entire movie, mate!" Jack stalled.

"Then I'll be leaving you. It will come, with ravenous hunger to the man what bears the black spot." He took Jack's hand and within seconds, a black pigment came over Jack's palm. He looked up to say, "ew," but Bootstrap was already gone.

"On deck all hands!" Jack sprinted up to the top deck. "Nautical terms! Nautical terms like there's no tomorrow!"

"Do we have a heading?" Gibbs asked, zipping up his fly.

"Land!"

"Which port?"

"Port means left. Land means dry ground."

"Thank you, Captain Dictionary, but it doesn't distract me from how weird you're acting."

Before Jack could respond, Jack the Monkey grabbed his hat and threw it overboard. Everyone froze and covered their crotches in fear of what might happen.

"Leave it!" Jack commanded. "Just get to land!"

"Where are we going?" Leech the New Guy asked. "Will there be pancakes?"

"Jack, for the love of Mother and Child, what's after us?" Gibbs asked.

"What makes you think there's something after us, eh? Just because my hat might float to an innocent Greek fishing ship and some unseen thing that looks like the Creature of the Black Lagoon on steroids is going to crush the ship with its bare tentacles? Do you know how fucked up that sounds? What kind of sick writers would write such a horrible beastie coming after such lovable characters as us?"

* * *

**A/N: In case you don't know what Chuck E. Cheese is, it is a "restaurant" catered to children that serves horrible pizza, has scary robotic animals come and do a "show," where they sing and such, and then a game room where you win tickets. Different amounts of tickets win you various crappy items. It is perhaps most (in)famous for a room you jump into that has a ton of plastic balls. Kids throw them at you, you'll lose your glasses in there if you're me, and if you're not careful, you might find a diaper in there underneath the balls. **


	5. The Subtle Hints of Wantonness Scene

Will and Governor Swann sighed at the sight of Elizabeth, still in her baby poop wedding dress sitting in a pile of fresh hay in her jail cell. Will sighed to see that she was all right. Governor Swann sighed to see her not sharing her new surroundings with any lecherous single men.

"Jack's compass? What does Beckett want with that? It must be an effective MacGuffin," she noted.

"That's exactly what I said. We're a perfect match," Will sighed.

"Keep telling yourself that."

"I'm going to find Jack and convince him to return to Port Royal. I have a plan if he says no to a simple request. All I have to do is lay out a trail of filled rum bottles leading to a giant box." Will wondered about the possibility of just taking the compass and NOT having Jack return to Port Royal, but that sounded too simplistic and only simpletons followed simplistic plans.

"We must find our own avenue to secure your freedom," Governor Swann argued.

"Is that a lack of faith in Jack or in me?" Will snapped.

"Actually, it would be better if we had a plan of our own instead of complying with the main villain," Elizabeth said. "But don't worry. I have faith in you, both of you. Where will you find him?"

"Tortuga. I'll start there and I won't stop searching until I find him, even though it's a big world and he could be absolutely anywhere in it. And then I plan to return here to marry you."

"Will, do you know what a conjugal visit is?" she asked innocently. Governor Swann snapped the sconce right off the wall. If the boy was a eunuch, what could he possibly do to prevent such a visit from taking place? Ah, the Vulcan Neck Pinch. His hand hovered over Will.

"I'll wait for you," Elizabeth said.

"Stay here and knit," Will whispered into the bars, leaving her without so much as kissing her goodbye.

Governor Swann snapped his fingers and muttered, "Rats," at the missed opportunity to try the Vulcan Neck Pinch out on Will.

* * *

**A/N: Don't own the Vulcan race or _Star Trek _or _Spaceballs. _Certainly don't own POTC. Please leave a review!**


	6. Where in the World is Jack Sparrow Scene

The docks were more like Tortuga-Lite, only a little bit of partying and drunken debauchery. Just the right atmosphere for asking questions, Will decided. The place was getting more and more like Disney World, though. He stopped to question a popcorn vendor.

"Captain Jack Sparrow owes me four doubloons. I heard he was dead. Popcorn?"

Will ordered a small box of popcorn lightly buttered and salted.

"Singapore, that's what I heard," the operator for the Dumbo ride said. "Drunk with a smile on his face. Sure as the tide, Jack Sparrow is in Singapore."

Stopping over at EPCOT's version of Singapore, Will's mouth gaped open at the familiar sight of Scarlett and Giselle turning tricks in front of the families.

"Jack Sparrow?" Giselle asked.

"Haven't seen him in a month," Scarlett said.

"When you find him will you give him a message?" Giselle then slapped Will's face and laughed, taking Scarlett by the arm to see if EPCOT's Antarctica had any hornier men.

Almost inconsolable, Will sat on a park bench with "It's a Small World After All" playing over the loudspeakers. This was just intolerable! Where in the world was Jack Sparrow?

"Ha ha, you look sad!"

Will looked up to see Mickey Mouse himself handing him a balloon.

"I'm looking for Jack Sparrow, Mickey, but I don't know where to find him." He let his head collapse onto Mickey's shoulder.

"There there. There's an island not far from here, south of the straits where the employees trade me-shaped popsicles for porn. I'm not sure if Jack is out there, but you'll find a ship there, a ship with black sails."

"Thanks, Mickey! I'm going to have a zippety-do-dah day now!" Kissing him on the nose, Will dashed off to find a way to reach that island.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, better say this now...I DO NOT OWN MICKEY MOUSE OR DISNEY WORLD! It's very hard for me to reconcile the fact that POTC belongs to Disney sometimes, but it does. **


	7. The Jack is Cursed with Power Scene

Will waded through a sea of popsicle sticks as he made his way up the beach and into the brush. The _Black Pearl _lied against the sand, the gentle waves knocking against her hull. Empty.

Bending low-hanging tree branches out of his way, he weaved through the foliage and passed a sign. "Danger ahead." Shrugging, he continued on until he passed another one. "Seriously. This will not end well for you." Please, he scoffed. I have my trusty sword with me. Passing a cookbook entitled _How to Serve Man_, he heard the flapping of wings nearby.

"Don't eat me! Don't eat me!" Cotton's parrot squawked.

"I'm not going to eat you," Will said, squinting in confusion.

"Take a hint! Take a hint!"

Ignoring the bird, he instead followed a thin rope tied to a familiar flask.

"Gibbs," Will murmured to himself, fingering the cork. "It's almost as if this were a dangerous place."

Before he could expand on this epiphany, something darted out of one of the trees, sending Will whirling back in shock. The sureness of his steps gone, he stumbled into a loop the rope made, hoisting him into the air. Hanging upside down, he saw several small people gathering around him, none tall enough to even reach his waist had he been standing upright. Unsheathing his sword, he swatted at them.

"Aauugh! I'm on some kind of cannibal Lilliput! Bitch. Fuck. Shit. Back! Back, you cursed midgets!"

Two of the little people looked at each other and shrugged, the first one widening his mouth to fit it around a blowgun…and then everything went dark.

The steady cadence of marching brought Will back to consciousness, now hogtied to a long post. Blinking his groggy eyes, he tried to decipher what they were saying to each other.

"Hi ho, hi ho, it's home from work we go…"

What the hell, Will thought. At last the singing stopped, as did the marching. Will looked to the side at a throne-like chair where Jack himself sat, wearing a strange little hat.

"Jack! Jack Sparrow. I can honestly say I'm glad to see you!" Will guffawed, still loopy from his poisoned dart. "I was just about to get married and then everyone just started getting shorter and shorter until finally I was in Lilliput and the Lilliputians captured me, only they sang like dwarves and that is just the cutest little hat ever! Say, have you seen my sword? Oh, God, please help me! I don't want to be hogtied anymore! Ass! Ass. Damn. Ass. Fuck."

"Get a hold of yourself!" Jack slapped him and then looked anxiously at the dwarves. "Um…"

"Inner-day!" one of them shouted. "Ost-may elicious-day!"

"Ix-nay on the Ig-pay Atin-lay…eh?" Jack sighed, crossing back to his chair.

"No, wait! The compass! Jack, that's all I need. Look, I don't know what kind of cult you've started here, but I promise I won't rat you out and you can feed them all questionable Kool-Aid for all I care. Come on! Be a pal! Elizabeth is in danger! We were arrested for trying to help you! She faces the gallows! Doesn't that sound like a good opener for a movie?"

"Ith-way the others, uh, ay," Jack ordered them before bending down to Will. "Ave-say…I hate these buggers. Save me!"

The dwarves picked up the long pole again, leaving Will helpless to do anything to stop it. "Jack, what did you tell them? Did you tell them you'd FedEx the compass to me? The address is still the same, Ye Olde Blacksmith Shop, Port Royal, Podunk, Caribbean!"

* * *

**A/N: Yay! Will and Jack's reunion! That can only mean one thing-- they'll get in trouble twice as fast! I do not own _Gulliver's Travels, Snow White, _or _The Twlight Zone_, which is where the title of the cookbook comes from...great episode. **


	8. The Scene With Swanns on the Lam

Meanwhile, back in Port Royal Jail, Elizabeth felt like running head first into the iron bars. However, she kept her hands folded in her lap and tried to block out the goings-on in the cell next to her.

"'What three European countries begin with the letter A?'" one of the prisoners read from a _Trivial Pursuit _card.

"Oh! I know this!" the other squealed. "Austria, Albania, and, oh, it's on the tip of my tongue…oh."

Andorra, Elizabeth felt like bursting out before she strangled the man to death. It had been like this all night, each one of those stupid gits assuming they knew the answer and then torturing themselves trying to think of it.

"Time's up," the reader said, rolling the dice. "Sports and Leisure for the wedge, please."

"Elizabeth?" She snapped her head up to see her father poking his head through the bars. "Come quickly."

"And not a moment too soon," she breathed and then turned back to her criminal neighbors. "If the question is 'what's the best way to drive Elizabeth Swann to suicide,' the answer isn't too far away from you! So." She turned back to her father. "You didn't already send the wedding gifts back, did you?"

"I had to! You and Will aren't married yet. The decorum! Anyway, I still have some standing with the king. I've arranged passage to England. The Captain J. Buffet is a friend of mine. We'll make a short stop at Margaritaville and then all the way to England from there."

"No!" Elizabeth jerked her arm away from him and stood in the well-lit jail corridor where any number of armed guards could see she was out of her cell. "I have to stay here and rot in prison while Will gets to go off and have an adventure with soaking wet pirates and what am I saying? Let's get out of here!"

"We're going to have to ditch Will," Governor Swann said. "For a single man, he's all right, has some decency, but, my dear, we all know he's lower class. I realize you have some needs that aren't being met, but everyone knows the poor are less intelligent, less moral, less attractive, and less sexually satisfying than the rich. When we're in England, we'll find you another Commodore. That's the ticket! All that blue blood rushing to one particular place…"

"Father, this is becoming awkward."

"Sorry. We have to ditch Will anyway because, and this is an important plot point, Beckett has offered one pardon only, one, and that is promised to Jack Sparrow. Even if Will succeeds, do not ask me to endure the sight of my daughter walking to the gallows. By the time I've mourned, remarried, and have another daughter, I'll be too old to defend her from wanton men when she's your age. So your first husband's going to hang. You know what that means?" He helped her into the carriage. "You'll be single again and that's good 'noose' indeed." Chuckling, he climbed up to the driver's seat, took the reins, and bolted out of the jail and to the harbor, almost running over a passerby.

"Road hog!" the limping passerby shouted, shaking his fist at the reckless carriage.

"That was Governor Swann driving that carriage," Estrella thought to herself, showing some leg on the side of the road. "Driving like a fugitive. Guess it was a good thing I singled out a new target." Once she saved up enough money from turning tricks in Port Royal, she would use it to receive passage to England. It wouldn't be too hard to bop Margravine Caroline of Brandenburg-Austria on the head and assume the role of King George the Second's wife! Ha ha ha ha! And to think she once thought governor's daughters held all the power… She could already see Spain renaming itself England Junior.

Governor Swann did not recognize her, his vision focused only on the road in front of him. He didn't even hear the suspicious thud accompanying the sensation of the carriage feeling lighter. Oh well. Now they were at the dock.

"Wait inside," he whispered. "Captain Buffet? Why are you just standing there?"

"Cheeseburger in paradise/medium rare with mustard'd be nice/not too particular/not too precise," Captain J. Buffet sang to himself. Suddenly, a tomahawk zoomed out of nowhere and lodged right into his head.

"Jesus Christ!" Governor Swann gasped, reaching for his rape whistle. He blew it until he felt dizzy.

"Evening, Governor." It was Mercer, stepping out of the shadows and trying to pry his tomahawk out of Captain Buffet's head. He placed a foot on the body's chest for leverage and heaved once more. Stumbling backward with his weapon, he wiped a bead of sweat and smiled. "Pity he wasn't singing something with a deeper meaning. He was carrying a letter to the king. It's from you!" He gestured, and several nameless mooks started running for the carriage.

"Elizabeth!" But when they opened the door, the carriage was empty.

"Still warm," said one of the mooks, his hands on the cushion.

"Where is she?" Mercer asked Governor Swann.

"Who? My daughter? The one you arrested earlier and was recently waiting around in jail? Well, she's certainly not hatching her own brilliant scheme to outwit Lord Beckett, that's for sure!"

* * *

**A/N: I do not own the game _Trivial Pursuit _nor do I own Jimmy Buffet or any of his amazing songs. I just figured since he sings about sailing, pirates, drinking, etc, he would like a cameo. Don't own POTC but would appreciate some reviews.**


	9. The Girl Packing Heat Scene

Beckett stretched out his legs and sank deeper into his recliner. It was worth the splurge to buy one with a built-in footstool. With _Sex and the City _on in front of him and his Fuzzy Navel on the table next to him, all was right with the world. In the distance, he heard a familiar ding.

"Scones are ready," he said to himself, brushing a piece of lint off his fuzzy house slippers. Rising, he felt his ankles pop before he remembered he'd left Applekins in his office. She couldn't miss this episode! Skipping into his office, he stopped suddenly to see his special Letters of Marque box had been opened.

"No doubt you've discovered loyalty is no longer the currency of the realm, as your father believes."

"Then what is?" Elizabeth appeared behind him, hands behind her back, looking an absolute fright in that hideous creation she called a wedding gown.

"I'm afraid currency is the currency of the realm."

"I expect then that we can come to some sort of understanding. I'm here to negotiate."

"I'm listening," Beckett said. Elizabeth darted across the room and presented a pistol from behind her back. She pressed it against Applekins.

"Give me what I want or the stuffed unicorn gets it!" she growled.

"No!" Beckett coughed and then cleared his throat. "I mean, I do believe we got off on the wrong foot here. Since you have a pirate fetish, I'll explain that in terms you'll understand. Ahem. WE GOT OFF ON THE WRONG PEG LEG. AAR. There. Now please leave my unicorn alone."

"These letters, they are signed by the king," she said. She sauntered over to his desk.

"Yes and they are not valid until they bear my signature and my seal."

"Or else I would not still be here. You sent Will to get the compass owned by Jack Sparrow…"

"…good job recapping the movie for all the latecomers…"

"Shut up! It will do you no good. There are no Prada or Manolo Blahnik shoes at Isla de Muerta. I have seen the treasure myself. I can't see what interest you would have in it."

"Ah, I see," Beckett said, smirking. "You think the compass leads only to Isla de Muerta and so you hope to send me to somewhere where the shoe business is more lucrative. Don't worry. Once I have what I want I can buy all the shoes I want. You might want to enhance your offer."

"Consider into your calculations you robbed me of my wedding night." Elizabeth cocked the pistol. Without taking his eyes off the pistol, Beckett signed the letters and prepared his seal.

"So I did. A marriage interrupted…or fate intervenes. You're going to great lengths to ensure Jack Sparrow's freedom."

Elizabeth paused, her expression unreadable. "You've been watching _Law and Order _again, haven't you?"

"And combining it with my natural matchmaking skills." He put his hands behind his back as his chest swelled. With a smug look, he said, "Well, even if that's not your motive, I'll still want that compass. Consider that into your calculations."

"Who's your favorite girl on that show?" Elizabeth asked with a raised eyebrow, the beginnings of revulsion sweeping over her face.

"Samantha."

"Ugh, what a freak." She hitched up her skirts and bolted out of the office.

* * *

**A/N: I do not own _Sex and the City _and would not claim it if I did. I actually find it abysmal. The bit about the peg leg is paying homage to Rifftrax's ribbing of the first movie. They have Barbossa say he and Elizabeth got off on the wrong foot, which in his case is a peg leg, so I can't really take credit for that one. I just wanted to use it. Also, I don't own _Law and Order_.**


	10. The Greek Chorus Comic Duo Return Scene

Near the dreaded island, none other than Pintel and Ragetti rowed in a small boat through the glittering waves, the dog from the jail sitting between them with an alert demeanor.

"Well I say it was Divine Providence what escaped us from jail," Ragetti said, holding a Bible.

"And I say it was me being clever. Ain't that right, poochy?"

"Well, how do you know it wasn't Divine Providence what inspired you to be clever? 'Common sense is not so common.' Voltaire." He pointed at Pintel.

"Oh for God's sake, that don't have nothing to do with nothing!"

"'The noblest kind of retribution is not to become like your enemy.' Know who said that, Mr. Clever? Marcus Aurelius! Anyway, I ain't stealing no ship."

"It ain't stealing. It's salvaging. Look! There it is!" He pointed at the _Pearl _only a few more feet away. Jack's dad's dog kicked out its legs and plunged off the side of the boat into the water, paddling its way to the shore.

"What's gotten into him?" Ragetti asked.

"I told him this was where a bunch of other dogs was," Pintel laughed. "You know how a dog's whole world just stops when it sees another dog. Heh heh. What do you think about after this taking him to be tutored, just in case?"

"What is it you think tutored means?"

Before Pintel could answer, they noticed the tide was coming in, which would make the work go faster. They walked up to the _Pearl_, who was already nervous that Jack had been gone so long anyway and was now very frantic that one of these strange men from her past would slip her a roofie. Oh where was Jack when she needed him?

* * *

**A/N: Don't own.**


	11. The Scene With Hanging Balls

Meanwhile, the dwarves had stuffed Will into a large round cage suspended from a hanging bridge. An identical one hung next to it, the crew of the _Black Pearl _trapped in both. What a stunning feat of engineering, Will thought, marveling at the construction of the cage. They had some kind of intricate pulley system for these cages to have gotten out to the middle of the bridge in the first place. All they needed were a few swords and a jail with half pin-barrel hinges and they'd be in business.

"Will? Will!" Gibbs waved his hand in front of Will's face. "We have to do something! Those dwarves were rejected by Disney. They started a cult out here not too long ago and believe Jack is the lost dwarf leader Sexy."

"Sexy the Dwarf?" Will asked.

"A tall dwarf. They intend to release him from his tall form, however. Cotton! Stop nibbling on Will's arm! Back! Bad!" He swatted at Cotton, who gave out a whimper and turned away to sulk. "They'll roast him and eat him…and we'll be the fixin's."

"Where's the rest of the crew?"

"These cages we're in weren't built until after we got here." Will let go of the cage. Gaping in awe of manmade cages…literally. It was worse than eating soylent green.

"Then we can't just sit here and wait," he said. "We need to start swinging."

Cotton gave a disgusted look as the others grunted in protest.

"No, start swinging the cage. Imagine a ditzy waltz playing. You guys in the other one! Start swinging the cages!" Like oddly shaped pendulums, they swung to and fro until they were close enough to grab some vines on the side of the cliff.

"Put your legs through and start to climb!" Gibbs ordered, not wanting to be outshone by Will.

The sharp odor of smoke wafting around accompanied the ominous strains of "Hi Ho, hi ho/it's off to eat we go" echoing over their heads. A race against time—they heaved, grunting their way up the cliff. From the corner of his eye, Will could see a little boy patrolling across the bridge.

"Stop! Everyone stop!" he hissed at the other cage.

Screw this kid that got a share of top billing; I'm Leech the New Guy, bitch, Leech the New Guy thought to himself, signaling to the others to keep climbing. It couldn't have been a better metaphor. He nodded, so proud he was literally climbing his way to the top. Soon he would get his own ship and crew, maybe some wenches, and there would be shiny things as far as the eye could see. So absorbed in his own lust for power, he barely noticed his hand brush over a snake…until it hissed.

"Snake!"

The most effeminate scurrying and screaming for pirates rattled the cage enough for the lone sentinel patrolling the bridge to see them swing back to the middle of the bridge, the momentum snapping it loose. Will and the regular supporting characters watched helplessly as the cage filled with the minor characters and extras plummeted into the misty and probably crocodile-filled waters below. Shocked, they cocked their heads upward, only to be staring right at the young dwarf boy staring at them.

"Oh crap," Will said. "Move! Fucking move!"

* * *

**A/N: Uh oh, how will Will and the gang get out of this one? Stay tuned! Since there are so many quick cuts in this segment of the movie, I've split it in half for what's going on from Will's point of view and then from Jack's point of view. Otherwise this thing would be like 50 chapters long and I would never get to the meat of the story because we all know this is filler...hilarious, wonderful, ravishing filler.**


	12. The It's Not Good to be a God Scene

Well, any time you want to pull off a big rescue would be greatly appreciated, Will, Jack thought, nervously drumming his fingers on the large pile of logs, growing ever shorter as the dwarves tossed them into the fire, whistling while they worked. Once again, I will have to pick up the blacksmith's slack, he decided. Swaggering out in front of them, he commanded, "More wood! Big fire! You guys in the back! Those humans aren't going to become dessert or fixin's or whatever it is they're going to be. Add more wood!"

"Hi ho/hi ho/it's off to work we go," they sang, lifting an armful of logs each and throwing them onto the fire. They looked back to check for approval, but Jack was gone, racing to the other end of the village. Only the edge of a cliff stopped him in his tracks.

What to do, what to do, what to do, he recited to himself over and over again, fighting off a surge of panic creeping up on him. He hustled into one of the huts. It was loaded with rope. Gathering it up into his arms, he turned to go, when he heard a small sound like the crinkle of bows.

He turned around fast and saw a small dwarf cannibal, Little Cindy-Lou, whose last name was Hannibal.

Jack had been caught by this little dwarf daughter who'd got out of bed for a cup of cold water.

She stared at Jack and said, "Sexy Dwarf, why, why are you taking our rope? WHY?"

But you know, old Jack was so smart and so slick, he thought up a lie and he thought it up quick.

"Uh…my sweet little tot," the fake Sexy Dwarf lied. "This rope just happens to be unraveling on one side. So I'm taking it back to my ship, my dear. I'll fix it up there. Then I'll bring it back here."

"That's from _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_," Cindy-Lou announced, tonguing her loose tooth at the same time.

"Oh." Jack frowned. "You're familiar with that story."

It was all the time the rest of the dwarves needed to catch up to Jack and drag him back to their bonfire, the smoke at least a hundred feet high. Hogtying him and hoisting him onto the spit, the flames crackled underneath him. Out in the theater, a fangirl fainted away.

"Ew-nay uy-gay aped-escay!" the dwarf from the bridge panted, flailing his arms at the others.

Better late than never, Will, Jack thought, blowing on the curling flames. "Oh-gay et-gay em-thay!" He watched them rush after the others, leaving him alone to roast. Holding his breath and counting to three, he launched himself away from the fire and tried to run, still tied to the pole. Groaning that he would have to go back through the huts to escape, he zigzagged around them, looking for anything that could free him from the pole. Think, Jack, think. How did you occupy your time after you had slept with that diving instructor? He gasped. The pole vault instructor! Taking a few steps back, he took a running start and flipped onto the other side of the cliff, noting what a fantastic story the feat would make.

So proud of himself, he couldn't catch his balance and fell back, sending him crashing through at least half a dozen wooden bridges. Screaming all the way, he landed onto the soft grass. Well, moderately soft. Freed from the pole, he had to find his way back to the beach.

* * *

**A/N: Once again, I do not own _Snow White _or the Grinch and if Disney ever had a plot bunny about Jack making it with a pole vault instructor, that's news to me.**


	13. The Return of the Buddy System Scene

"Roll the cage!" Will ordered, he and the others fitting their feet through and making what can only be described as a combination of the Flintstone's car and a hamster wheel.

"Come on, lads, lift it like a lady's skirt!" Gibbs encouraged. "Except you, Marty. Imagine you're lifting up Fabio's loincloth."

"I'm not gay!" Marty asserted, wondering if the dwarves on this island had the right idea when it come to eating Gibbs, but before he could cross over to the dark side entirely, they ran out of ground, tumbling down into a narrow, rushing river. The cage busted, they swam out, complimenting each other on the lack of bruises or other serious injuries.

"This way!" Gibbs took the lead, staggering out of the river and sprinting to the beach.

The _Black Pearl _awaited them, sighing at the two clowns who had been trying to get her back into the water for the last half hour.

"Nautical terms," Pintel growled at Ragetti. "Don't you know what 'nautical terms' means?"

On deck, Ragetti couldn't hear Pintel, busy trying to retrieve his eye from Jack the Monkey.

"Don't bite it!" Ragetti shrieked as Jack the Monkey began gnawing on his wooden eye. "If you give it back, I know where lots of girl monkeys are! No? Uh, come on, you stupid monkey! A state is better governed which has few laws and those laws strictly observed and the only law here is that you DON'T TOUCH MY EYE!"

"Excellent work!" Gibbs patted Pintel before climbing onto the ship. "Our work's half done. Glad to see you alive, by the way. No one else in the movie is going to question your presence."

"Oh well," Pintel sighed, shrugging his shoulders modestly and kicking the sand. "It was a cunning plan, really, cooked up by…" He noticed everyone else had jumped up into the _Pearl _and preparing her for sailing. "Oh."

"Wait, wait!" Will waved his arms. "What about Jack? I can't just sail his ship back to Port Royal, allow Lord B—I mean, interested parties in wrongly assuming Jack is on board. That could only result in us ambushing him and killing him brutally in ways pirates are infamous for, forever freeing Elizabeth and me of our problems…never mind, let's go!"

But fortunately for Jack, he just barely outran the dwarves in spite of his lizard-like running style and gripped the netting on the side of the _Pearl_.

"Alas, my children!" he called to the dwarves. "This is the day you shall always remember as the day that you almost…" A large wave rushed right over him. "Captain Jack Sparrow." He spit out a bit of sea water and threw a leg over the railing and tumbled back onto the deck.

"Let's put some distance between us and this island and head out to open sea," Gibbs suggested, gesturing for Pintel and Ragetti to throw a coat over Jack. It was unseemly for their captain to be soaking wet with no girls around. "Unless you wanted to go back for the dog."

"This is only the beginning of a long legacy I'm going to have of pet abuse, Mr. Gibbs," Jack said, shivering. "We have to keep to the shallows as much as possible. It might seem contradictory at first, but I have every faith in your reconciliatory navigational skills. Now where is that monkey? I want to shoot something!"

"Jack!" Will crossed over to them.

"Oh, you're still here."

"I don't really have elsewhere to go at the moment. I'd let you sit back and have a breather since we did almost die, but I'm on a tight schedule here. Elizabeth is in danger."

"Oh no! Don't tell me she's somewhere you're not and has only her independence and resourcefulness to see her through!" Jack rolled his eyes and climbed up the steps to the helm.

"She's in prison bound to hang for helping you," Will said, ignoring the sarcasm.

"There comes a time when one must take responsibility for one's mistakes."

Fuming, Will spun around, unsheathed Cotton's sword for him, gave him a swift kick that sent him tumbling down the steps and breaking his hip, and then pointed the tip right at Jack.

"I need that compass of yours, Jack. As retarded as it sounds, I must trade it for her freedom to parties unmentionable."

Slightly curious as to who the unnamed parties were but realizing there were bigger things on the line here, Jack waved away the sword.

"Mr. Gibbs, we have a need to travel upriver."

"Oh good! We'll be in time for the party. I thought those dwarves were going to finish us off and we wouldn't get a chance. I'll just go below decks and get the bong."

"The party will have to wait."

"But, you said upriver! The casinos, Jack. The casinos! And the brothels. And we had reserved the private room at the Revived Genre Club months ago! All that unsmoked hookah down there! I, I bought condoms for this!"

"There is a slightly more pressing matter at hand," Jack said.

"What we need to do," Will said, still appalled at the image of Gibbs needing a condom for anything, "is sail to Port Royal with all haste, although you could just give me the compass now and then you wouldn't have to return to the only place in the Caribbean with any sort of executive branch of government."

"William," Jack began with a scolding tone, "I shall trade you my compass if you help me with this." He pulled out the draw-ring of the key from earlier and showed it to Will.

"Oh, I see. I help you find that and then I return with your compass and can get married by noon tomorrow. Simple!"

"Hold up, mate. You're a blacksmith. We'll just sneak back to Port Royal, open your shop and, assuming this is drawn to scale, you can make me a copy of this so it will fit in the right lock I need it for."

"While you just slip away for a few minutes?" Will asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't insult me, William. What I would slip away for would take a few hours."

Will didn't seem to like Jack's tone or wink and suddenly felt that returning to Port Royal maybe wouldn't be in anyone's best interest at all.

"How about I just help you find this key?"

"Whatever," Jack said, his shoulders slumping.

"And it's definitely going to save Elizabeth?"

"How much do you know about Davy Jones?" Jack answered the question with another question.

"Not much."

"Well then, not only is it going to save dear Lizzie but it will also lead you to a leprechaun's pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, allow you to climb up said rainbow, go over it, and land in Oz, whereby you will be granted the title 'First Wizard Deluxe' and will have a Scarcrow, Tin Man, and a gay lion as your brain trust." Jack fell back into a lawn chair that had conveniently been placed behind the helm and massaged his temple. Another adventure with Will? He began to wonder if this was the leviathan Bootstrap had mentioned…

* * *

**A/N: Ragetti's little philosophical rant is actually attributed to Descartes. I also don't own _The Wizard of Oz_. **


	14. The Three Men and a Dress Scene

Meanwhile, closer to Port Royal, we see our first legitimate merchant ship, the _Edinburgh Trader_, in the series. A large bald man named Curly spotted a familiar looking wedding gown strewn across the deck and swiped a handful of it just as a smaller man with more hair took hold of it. His name was Larry. Each one pulled and tugged on it, Curly making whooping sounds and trying to poke Larry in the eyes.

"What's all this?" Captain Bellamy demanded in a thick accent. "If you both fancy the dress, you'll just have to share and wear it one after the other."

"It's not like that, sir. This ship is haunted by g-g-g-g-ghosts!" Curly sputtered.

"There's a female presence here, sir. All the men have felt it, in nonsexual ways," Larry said.

"The ghost of a lady," another one said, smaller than the other two with black hair.

"I like you," Captain Bellamy said. "We'll call you Moe. You seem to be their unofficial leader."

"Yes, well, it's the ghost of a lady, widowed before her marriage, searching for her husband lost at sea, a virgin too, likely as not, and that bodes ill by all accounts."

Elizabeth bit her lip to stifle a laugh, painting the railing of the ship a conspicuous _Hello Kitty _pink. Realizing her error in judgment, she switched over to _Propane Grill _Gray. Much better. But then again, no one would ever think she was a boy. For once she could be proud of her small breasts and lack of hips.

"I say we throw the dress overboard and hope the spirit follows it," Moe said.

"No, that will just anger it!" Curly said. Moe slapped him upside the head, which sent him spinning right into Larry. Not to be outdone, Larry slapped Curly's cheek, sending him back reeling towards Moe.

"Enough! You're a pair of superstitious goats. Now, this appears to be no more as we have a stowaway on board, a young woman, by the look of it. I want you to search the ship and find her. She'll probably have hair longer than any of us, smaller hands, and higher cheekbones."

Elizabeth's hands flew to her face. Her cheekbones! She was done for! Oh, damn her bone structure! Damn it! She paused her lament, surprised at the lack of action behind her. None of the men had moved.

"Oh, and since she left her dress here," Captain Bellamy said. "She's probably naked."

A chorus of cheers rang out as the men scattered. Elizabeth ducked her head and joined them, rushing to find, well, herself.

* * *

**A/N: The three crewmen in this scene are channeling the Three Stooges here, which I don't own. I am so excited about posting the next chapter because it is when the gang meets Tia Dalma and it is one of the most pivotal and well-done scenes in the whole series, so much going on in it...ripe for the picking, so to speak. Please leave a review!**


	15. The Side Trip of Destiny Scene

Upriver certainly did have more than its share of bright fancy lights, Will thought, sitting in one of the longboats. According to Gibbs, this wasn't even the most active part of it, that the main strip would make this little stretch seem quaint by comparison.

"Why is Jack afraid of the open ocean?" Will asked. "It doesn't eat swords, does it? Fuck. Hell." He clutched his "What Happens Upriver, Stays Upriver" pamphlet.

"Well, if you believe such things, and I do, there's a beast that does the bidding of Davy Jones, a monstrous creature with giant tentacles that'll suction your face clean off and drag an entire ship down to the crushing darkness. The kraken! They say the stench of its breath is…" He shuddered. "Imagine, the last thing you know on God's green earth is the roar of the kraken and the reeking odor of a thousand corpses."

"Kind of like Ragetti's hammock!" Pintel chuckled. Ragetti elbowed him in the ribs.

"And the key will spare him that?"

"That's the very question Jack wants answered, bad enough even to go visit HER."

"Her? There's more than one woman in this universe?"

"Aye."

The boats pulled up to a little shack positioned not too far above the river, fireflies dancing around it, avoiding the giant bug zapper outside the door so well one wondered if they were sentient. Jack stood outside the door and waited for the others.

"Oh, we didn't bring anything," Will said. "Is it too late to go back for some bunt cake?"

"I got it taken care of, mate," Jack said. "Tia Dalma ain't really a bunt cake type of girl. In fact, she's more a try-to-kill-you-in-enjoyable-ways-after-sex-because-you-weren't-her-octopus-lover girl. But don't worry! We go way back. There'll be some freaky things in here, probably a corpse or two, but you have to play it cool. Even if she summons a demon that will possess her and make her head go all the way around and spit pea soup at us, you have to pretend it doesn't bother you. Savvy? All right. Now, there's one more trick to getting in here without the natives jumping to her rescue thinking we're intruders. William, proceed to grab my waist from behind and start a conga line."

Sighing, knowing only he could get caught up into something like this, Will obeyed and felt Gibbs follow suit. They formed a little conga line and crossed into the mysterious Tia Dalma's shack.

"Day-o, Day-ay-ay-o/Daylight come and me wan' go home/Day, me say day, me say day, me say day/Me say day, me say day-ay-ay-o/Daylight come and me wan' go home," the natives sang in the distance.

"Come, Mister tally man, tally me banana/Daylight come and me wan' go home/Come, Mister tally man, tally me banana/Daylight come and me wan' go home," the crew sang. From behind Jack, Will could see Tia Dalma, a tall, eerily beautiful woman in a long tattered dress with creamy mocha skin and bloodshot eyes. From the ceiling to the floor, she was surrounded in oddities, but she stood out among them all.

"Jack Sparrow!" she said with a playful and knowing tone, her grin exposing greened teeth.

"Tia Dalma, it's been far too long and EYEBALL JAR!" Jack recovered, exhaled, and approached her with a calm smile. "We were just in the neighborhood and STRANGE LOCKET WITH A CREEPY FACE ON IT THAT PLAYS A TRAGIC LOVE SONG!"

"Right," Tia Dalma said. "When you're done with your freakout, you can introduce me to your friends." She spoke with a slightly slurred, Haitian accent, only adding to her exoticness. She paused in front of Will. "You, you have a touch of destiny about you, William Turner…oh, and some lint. I'll get that." She brushed it off his shoulder.

"Do you know me?"

"You want to know me?"

"There'll be no knowing here!" Jack shouted, coming between them and taking Tia Dalma's arm. "We came for help and we're not leaving without it, although I don't think that would bother Will too much. Besides, I thought I knew you."

"In a limp, tiny, inadequate sort of way," she sighed, sitting back at the crab claw-covered table. "So what service may I do you? You know I demand payment."

"See, we were going to bring a bunt cake, but…" Will shut up when he saw Jack's murderous "I'll handle this" face.

"I brought payment." He lifted a cage with Jack the Monkey in it. "Look!" He fired his pistol right into it. JTM let out a scared howl and checked himself over for wounds, but that was all. "An undead monkey. Top that!"

Intrigued, Tia Dalma let JTM out of his cage where he scampered away into the bedroom and leapt onto a pair of black boots.

"Fair enough," she said.

"We're looking for this," Will said, laying the draw-ring out on the table. "And what it goes to, of course." He noted the stunned look in her widened eyes. Her bottom lip began to drop, lost in thought, until her head snapped up towards Jack.

"The compass you bartered from me. It cannot lead you to this?"

"Maybe," Jack said, avoidant, pretending to examine a hat. "Why?"

"Wait," Will said. "This is where the compass came from? Hey, you don't happen to manufacture these, do you, because I'm kind of in a bind back home…"

"This is so cute!" Tia Dalma clapped her hands together. "Oh, the fangirls are going to tear this scene up with analysis. You don't know what you want! Or maybe you do, but are loathe to claim it as your own?"

"Let's not get too in depth here…" Jack stammered.

"I'll pay you double what Jack paid you," Will said.

"It's just adorable that you want…something…and yet do not want to want…that something." Tia Dalma grinned. "It's like, you'll fight it and fight it and then one day…"

"Shut it," Jack warned.

"And one day what?" Will stomped his foot. "You'll finish talking cryptically and start working on my special compass? Ass. Shit. Fuck. Bitch."

"Okay, okay," Tia Dalma said, picking up a pencil and drawing little hearts on her table. "Your key goes to a chest and it's what lays inside the chest you seek."

"What is inside?" Gibbs asked.

"Gold? Jewels? Unclaimed properties of a valuable nature?" Pintel inquired, his mouth watering at the image.

"Not a smaller chest that has a smaller chest inside it which has an even smaller chest inside that one, I hope," Ragetti gulped, staring at the jar of eyeballs. "There's eyeballs in this jar!"

"Not too bright, your friend?" Tia Dalma raised an eyebrow.

"Ooh, miss, you don't want to say that," Pintel warned, guiding Ragetti to a chair. "Now, now, Ragetti. We can quote philosophy after we find out what's in the chest. That's it now. Here. Drink this." He handed him a flask of rum. "Nothing restores the mind to reason like alcohol."

"If everyone's ready…" Tia Dalma cleared her throat and wait for the men to encircle her. "All right now." From under the table, she pulled out a large pop-up book called _Tragic Love Stories of the Sea for Kids_ and opened it to the first page. A large pop-up of a bearded, Viking-like man on a massive ship flipped up. "This is Davy Jones, a great sailor, until he ran afoul of that which vexes all men. Yes, Will?"

Will had been raising his hand, stretching his fingers as close to the ceiling as he could go. He breathed a sigh of relief when she called on him. "What vexes all men?"

"What indeed, you naughty, naughty little boy?" She licked her lips. "Yes, Gibbs?"

"The sea!" Gibbs said, beaming as he put down his hand.

"Sums!"

"Pintel, we raise our hands when we want to speak."

Pintel raised his hand. "Sums!"

"The dichotomy of good and evil," Ragetti tried.

"Kiss-ass," Pintel muttered.

"No, it was…does someone want to wake up Jack?" Tia Dalma rolled her eyes and threw a crab claw at Jack, who had dozed off with a smile on his face. Will nudged him.

"No, you wear the fuzzy handcuffs this time…wha? Oh." He cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes. "What'd I miss?"

"Nothing much. A woman vexed Davy Jones." Tia Dalma turned the page to show Davy Jones on bended knee in front of a silhouetted woman with an arrow in her center that pointed up to Tia Dalma. "He fell in love. Some say it was the sea, but same story, different versions, and all are true. It was a woman as changing, harsh, and untamable as the sea. He never stopped loving her. But the pain it caused him was too much to live with, but not enough to cause him to die."

She turned the page to show a pop-up of Davy Jones holding a menacing looking bottle of pills in one hand and a "Be My Valentine" card in the other, a bewildered expression on his face.

"What exactly did he put in the chest?" Will asked, growing impatient. Fuck, there better be a hundred-point essay on this guy to make her ranting worth the trouble.

"Him heart. Him carve out him heart, lock it away in a chest, and hide the chest from the world. The key, he keep with him at all times."

"You knew this!" Will said to Jack, standing up and drawing back his arm.

"Why do you always look like you're going to punch me in the face?" Jack took a step back. "I didn't know where the key was, but now we do. So all that's left is to…I'm tired of exposition. Let's just go back to the ship and you can try something new and just blindly do what I tell you, okay?"

"Let me see your hand." Tia Dalma stood and extended out her own, her red eyes taking no nonsense. Jack reluctantly dropped his hand into hers. Unknotting a bit of his lace, she gazed down at the Black Spot Bootstrap Bill had given him earlier.

"The Black Spot!" Gibbs gasped, bursting into the Hokey Pokey.

"My eyesight's just as good as ever, just so you know…yep, that one goes right over the kiddies' heads…" He shot Will a suspicious look. Turning back towards the table, he saw that Tia Dalma had weaved into the next room, searching and mumbling to herself. He skimmed the table, noticing a silver heart-shaped locket with the word "foreshadowing" etched into it. Tia Dalma returned, a jar of dirt in her arms.

"Davy Jones cannot make port, cannot step on land but once every ten years. Land is where you are safe, Jack Sparrow, even though the whole point of the previous scenes was to show you are not safe on water or land, according to the writers, but whatever. Here is a plot device."

"Dirt. This is a plot device of dirt."

"Yes."

"Is the plot device of dirt going to help?"

"If you don't want it, give it back."

"No." Jack hugged the jar closer to him.

"Then it helps."

"It seems," Will sighed, "we have a need to find the _Flying Dutchman._"

"A touch of destiny!" Tia Dalma breathed, flinging her crab claws onto the table.

* * *

**Author's Note: Special thanks once again to Fedah and Colozamia for posting the script online. I do not own _The Exorcist_ or any of Harry Belfaonte's songs. In case you don't know, it was once thought that the consequences of masturbation included blindness and hairy palms, so obviously with Jack's palm dark from the black spot, he has to clarify in a subtle way that he has not been busy playing with himself. I love, love, LOVE this scene and consider it one of the most important ones in the series, so please leave feedback.**


	16. When is a Dutchman Not a Dutchman Scene

"That's the _Flying Dutchman_?" Will sneered at the wrecked ship between the vast curtain of raindrops slicing at his eyelashes. He had expected something more operatic to say the least, something stealthy, ethereal, foreboding. "She doesn't look like much."

"Neither do you…do not underestimate her." Jack then nudged Gibbs.

"Musta run afoul of the reef. We're not tricking you!"

Jack face-palmed. "So, got a plan?"

"I row over, search the ship until I find your bloody key…"

"And if there are crewmen?"

"I invite them onto the _Pearl _for tea," Will said. "Seeing as they're Dutch, I don't know that they'd like Earl Grey, so I hope you're well stocked." He patted Jack's back and climbed down into the rowboat the crew had readied for him.

"Oy!" Jack called down to him. "If you do happen to get captured, because I only have chamomile and chamomile with rum, just say 'Candyman' three times. Might save your life." He waited until Will was halfway between the _Pearl _and the piteous-but-damned ship ahead of them before turning to Gibbs. "Douse the lamps."

Will watched as each yellow spark of hope glowing from the _Pearl_'s portholes dim and then die, wondering if he should take that as a bad sign. No time, he decided, climbing onto the ship, its middle crushed, ocean water encasing it. From the corner of his eye, he spied a sailor fruitlessly trying to play hacky sack.

"It's no use, sailor, you're not coordinated. Shit. Damn."

"No…must enjoy precious moments left…foul breath…beneath us."

Will left the muttering imbecile to investigate further, when, all of a sudden, half a dozen soaking wet creatures climbed aboard the ship, each one a walking, weapon-wielding sea creature. Staggering back in shock, Will watched them unsheathe their swords and gathering up the sailors. They must be trying to eat their brains, Will thought, remembering his zombie knowledge. He hit an oil lantern and let the contents spill out onto the deck, flames curling upward. Rule number one of zombie killing? Kill them with fire.

He was soon overtaken and lined up with the rest of the sailors. Maybe now was a good time to call Candyman? No, if Jack suggested it, then it couldn't be a good idea. He would wait. Maybe these were a different breed of zombies, ones that could be negotiated with. Yes, he'd promise them brains in exchange for the key!

"Five men still alive, the rest have moved on," he heard the hammerhead-looking one whisper to a slippery, green, tentacled looking creature stalking its way towards them, two beady eyes peeking out from underneath a captain's hat. A wreath of smoke from his pipe hovered over his head, making a blasphemous halo. Davy Jones: devil of the seven seas.

"Do you fear death?" it said, leaning down into the face of one of the shell-shocked men. "That dark abyss? All your deeds laid bare, all your sins punished? Mama, put my guns in the ground/I can't shoot them anymore/That long black cloud is comin' down/I feel like I'm knockin' on heaven's door/Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door."

"If I agree to serve, will you stop singing?" the shaken man asked timidly.

"One hundred years aboard the mast! Glad to have ye. You!" He turned to Will. Shit, Will thought. "You are neither dead nor dying. What is your purpose here?"

"Candyman, Candyman, Candyman." He squeezed his eyes shut.

"What is your purpose here?"

"Candyman. Candyman. Candyman." He opened them. "Fuck! Jack said this would work."

"Did he now?" Davy Jones asked, an arrogant smirk appearing on his inhuman face.

* * *

**Author's Note: It's amazing how bad a liar a character can be when the writers want the audience to know it's a lie, even when said character is usually a good liar. Wait. That sounded a bit too "Jack." I crack up at him and Gibbs in this scene as they lie to Will, so badly it's a wonder Will didn't catch on. I do not own the movie _Candyman_, where the titular character can be summoned by calling his name three times. I also don't own any of Bob Dylan's songs. Also, the bit about the _Flying Dutchman _being operatic is that there actually is an opera out there of the same name and a similar story-- the captain is cursed to sail the seas forever, except when the waves wash him onto land every seven years. If he can marry a woman who will be true to him, the captain will be released. I think T&T got a few ideas from it. Like just about all operas...it doesn't end well.**


	17. The Scene With Faustian Overtones

"Shouldn't we be pulling away in case Davy Jones sees us?" Gibbs asked Jack, who was watching the action through a spyglass.

"Not to worry, mate." He turned around to assure him. "He's all the way over there."

Turning back around, he found himself face-to-face with Davy Jones. The crew behind him gasped, a few shrieks piercing through the night while the deformed crewmen of the _Dutchman _restrained them.

"Er, Candyman, Candyman, Candyman."

"You have a debt to pay!" Davy Jones stalked towards him. "You've been captain of the _Black Pearl _for thirteen years. That was our agreement, and I don't know anyone who goes back on their agreements, or do I?" He paused just as his eyes began to swell with tears. "Never mind!"

"Technically, I was only captain for two years and then was viciously mutinied upon. It's all in my memoirs. I was thinking of calling it _The Rum Diary_, but there's already something out with that same name about an entirely different subject matter…"

"Shut up!"

"Can I just say one more thing?"

"Fine."

"You have your payment. One soul to serve on your ship…he's already over there!"

In the theaters, the Orlando Bloom fangirls began sharpening jagged rocks with a grindstone, muttering curses under their breath. A few more slid underneath their fold-up seats to prepare their crossbows.

"One soul is not equal to another."

"Aw, I'm flattered." Jack beamed, then remembered what was happening. "Oh. Well, then we've established my proposal is sound in principle. Now we're just haggling over price."

"Price?"

"Just how many souls do you think my soul is worth?" Jack blinked his eyes in Morse Code, knowing the Orlando Bloom fangirls were holding baseball bats and hatchets. They had to know he had no intention of anything bad happening to Will or else he'd be bombarded. Stalling for time, he blinked, hoping one of them had been in Scouts or just overly fond of _Panic Room _and could understand.

"One hundred souls, three days, and I also want a Bloomin' Onion from Outback Steakhouse," Davy Jones said, nodding.

"Wow, okay. I can do that, although you're frightening enough without smelling like onions. They're good size, though. Best send back the boy so we can get started and, just in case anyone in the theater has a murderous gleam in her eye…I said 'send back the boy.'" He blinked it in Morse Code again for good measure.

"I keep the boy, a good faith payment. You'll just have to shanghai one of the waiters to help you carry it out. Ha ha ha ha!" His crew echoed his disjointed laughter.

"Have you not met Will Turner?" Cracking his knuckles, he exhaled at what he was about to do—kiss up to the Orlando Bloom fangirls. "He's noble, heroic, terrific soprano, worth at least four, maybe three and a half? Did I mention, he's in love? With a girl?"

"You know, funny you mention that, when I first saw him, I mistook him for a teenaged girl."

"It happens. He's also due to be married, and having him run the gauntlet on your ship would only be half as cruel as having him run down the aisle, eh?"

Now, Davy Jones knew that if anyone made a good wingman for a trip to the bars to drink away one's sorrows, it was Captain Jack Sparrow, but he wasn't such a fool to forget the fact that Jack had a way of pouring salt into open wounds.

"I keep the boy," he said, finally. "Ninety-nine souls left. But I wonder, Sparrow. Can you live with this? Can you go get not only ninety-nine souls in three days' time, but also condemn an innocent man, a friend, to missing out on inhaling the sweet aroma of the Bloomin' Onion?"

"Yep. I'm good with it. Shall we seal it in blood, er, ink?"

Inconveniently for Jack, this was the same week Davy Jones had gone in for his checkup and learned the pain he experienced while urinating lately was due to an enlarged prostate. Taking Jack's comment as an incontinence joke, he slithered his tentacle around Jack's hand and laid on the slime.

"Three days," he growled, disappearing back onto the _Dutchman_, leaving the crew of the _Pearl _as they had been before, solo and bewildered.

"Mr. Gibbs," Jack said, unable to take his eyes off his hand, glazed with slime. "I've never had this happen before. Is my hand going to wither off, or will this give me superpowers?"

"The stories are vague in that regard. Er, how do you plan to harvest these ninety-nine souls in three days?"

"You too?" Jack groaned. "All right. Time out. This is what's called stalling for time. As much as these movies contain adult content in both the violent and sexual nature, and the subject matter is, in fact, pirates, it is still a Disney movie and by the time this sequel rolled around, everyone knew damn well our major demographic was kids and young adults. Now, I ask you, who in their right mind would write a kids' movie and have a character in it actually promise living people to a character symbolizing the devil?"

"_Anastasia _did just that!" Marty called out. Jack made a mental note to make Marty the one to mind the ship while the rest of them partied at Tortuga.

"Fortunately," he cleared his throat. "He was mum as to the conditions in which these souls need be."

"Ah! Tortuga!" Gibbs cheered.

"Tortuga."

* * *

**A/N: I loved the idea of Jack writing his memoirs, but do not own _The Rum Diary_. I do not own _Panic Room_ or Outback Steakhouse. If you've never been there, the Bloomin' Onion is their signature appetizer and it's just what it promises to be—a giant fried onion cut up like a flower and you tear off pieces and put them in dip. It's fattening, greasy, and will leave your breath smelling frightful, but it's so good and after a few beers you won't really notice anyone's onion breath…but I digress. I also love Jack's need to clarify that it is a girl Will's in love with. But I was the only one in the theater who laughed, so that is my secret shame. Definitely don't own _Anastasia_.**


	18. The Hijacking With No Shots Fired Scene

Also passing suitably by Tortuga was the _Edinburgh Trader_, with none other than Captain Bellamy in his cabin, lecturing Larry, Curly, and Moe. A cloudy night, the only light came from the sparse lanterns speckled throughout the modest cabin.

"It's an outrage! First they prohibit us from crossing the Appalachian Mountains. Then they tax us on textiles, coffee, wines, and indigo."

"That means 'dye!'" Larry said the camera.

"Sh! You're interrupting the historical benefits of watching _Pirates of the Caribbean_," Curly whispered.

"You knuckleheads!" Moe slapped both of them and poked Curly in the eyes. "The Sugar Act wasn't until 1764."

"But that's what the captain's referring to…" Larry argued.

"…then lo and behold, there's this Stamp Act, which taxes all printed materials…" Captain Bellamy droned on. "What's next, a Quartering Act? More taxation without representation? Are we all to work for the East India Trading Company then? It makes me so mad I could just…"

"Revolt?" Larry suggested, winking at the camera.

Captain Bellamy never had time to formulate an answer, drawn to the window by a ghastly flash. The men ran out of the cabin and onto the deck, where the gown they found earlier was seated in a chair in the center, only now it had a wearer, a crudely made scarecrow.

"The scarecrow bride is trying to give me a sign!" Captain Bellamy breathed, trembling.

Elizabeth hid underneath the skirts of the gown, silently thanking her father for making her stick with the ventriloquism lessons.

"Who are you and what do you want?" she threw her voice to make it sound like a young male crewman had asked it. "A TWO-NIGHT SPA PACKAGE AT TORTUUUUUGGGAAAA!" She manipulated the arms of the scarecrow to flail around like a ghost.

"Tortuga?" the men repeated.

"TORTUUUUGGGGAAA!"

"What's Tortuga?" one of the men asked. Elizabeth rolled her eyes. How did sailors not know what or where Tortuga was?

"IT'S AN ISLAAAAAAND FULL OF SIIIIIIIIIN! YOU MUST GO THERE TO PARTYYYYYYYYYYYYY!"

"And when we get to Tortuga," Captain Bellamy asked, falling to his knees in fear. "What do you wish of us then, scarecrow bride?"

Elizabeth bit her lip and set her jaw, thinking on her feet.

"SUUUUURPRISE MEEEEEEEE! That is all." With one final flail, she knocked a lamp over, starting a small fire large enough to distract the men from her maneuvering out from under the dress and blending in with the crew.

* * *

**A/N: Wouldn't you pay money to see Keira Knightley wielding a giant puppet? I hoped you liked all the American Revolution references at the beginning.**


	19. The Bar Brawl and Dirty Wigs Scene

The crew of the _Black Pearl _docked in Tortuga, as always an orgy of hedonism hungry for more participants. Jack and Gibbs bypassed the debauchery, business to attend to this time. Jack propped himself up onto a ledge and flipped open his compass while Gibbs set up a "Help Wanted: Free Rum" table.

"And what makes you think you're worthy to crew the _Black Pearl_?"

"Well, I was an extra in _Cutthroat Island_, which, I'll admit, was a flop, but I do have experience in this genre." The hopeful young man passed his portfolio over to Gibbs. "A copy of my SAG card is in there, along with some headshots. That's me as an Errol Flynn type of pirate in case you need a leading man, and then there I am if you need a pirate that looks like a dung-covered Geoffrey Rush."

"Fine, fine," Gibbs yawned. "Next?"

"This the line for the syphilis screening?"

"Er, yes! Sign up right here and go find the nurse on the _Pearl_," Gibbs said, swelling with pride at adopting as good a trickster style as his captain. "Next? Yes, sir? Are you ready to be a member of our crew?"

"What?" the old man held a horn up to his ear.

"Are you ready to be a member of our crew?"

"Huh?"

"Crew!"

"Brew? I love brew!"

"Gibbs," Jack warned, "If you sign him up, the rest of us will not be talking to him." It was beginning to be a fruitless venture, he thought, watching the arrow of the compass go back and forth, back and forth. I know what I want, he thought, closing his eyes and concentrating on the chest. Opening his eyes, he looked down on the compass…and breathed a curse. It was going to be a long night.

"And what's your story?" he heard Gibbs ask the next man in line.

"My story? It's exactly the same as your story, just one chapter behind." Jack reluctantly lifted his head, his lips curled back in dread. He knew who this was, this man setting up a film projector and demanding everyone to douse the lamps at the point of a pistol. "I give you, the _Dauntless _vs. _Black Pearl _slide show."

The first slide showed a few red coated soldiers waving in front of a pier, laughing and pointing at a defecating seagull.

"Here we are before we began our pursuit. None of us will ever be that carefree again," the man said wistfully, adjusting his filthy wig. He moved on to the next slide. "This is the hurricane off of Tripoli that we sailed through, foolishly. It was as if God hated us. I mean, how many hurricanes does Tripoli get?" He moved to the next slide. "And here is my receiving a threat of a dishonorable discharge for being so careless with my ship and men. It was either that or resign my commission." He shut off the slideshow. "It's a short slideshow."

"Commodore Norrington!" Gibbs gasped. The smeared face, the tipsy eyes… "It's like you're one of us now!"

"Take that back, you son of a bitch!" Norrington tipped over the table, sending Gibbs tumbling to the floor. "And now, for what I came for…" He produced his pistol and pointed it right at Jack, who, for all his cleverness and wit, figured hiding behind a leaf was an adequate plan.

"You're hired!" Jack tried.

"Sorry. Old habits and all." Norrington closed one eye, his finger tensing.

"No!" a random whore screamed, diving in front of the bullet. It grazed her bullet-proof corset and the Jack fangirls in the theater cheered and praised her as a heroine.

"That's our captain you're threatening!" the actor screeched, throwing himself onto Norrington, hoping the small performance would earn an Oscar nod. The band picked up on his motives and added a jaunty period piece to accompany the ensuing brawl.

Amidst the flung bottles and launched knives, Jack and Gibbs weaved their way to the exit, not noticing Elizabeth entering from the other end of the pub. For some reason, she had abandoned her sailor boy costume from the _Edinburgh _and now wore a pirate boy costume. Seeing Norrington, she drew her own sword and entered the thicket of malcontents, easily disarming most of them.

"Come on! Who wants some?" Elizabeth found herself back-to-back with Norrington, cornered against a pillar. "Form an orderly line!" he cried. "I'll have you all one by one! Come on! Who's first?"

Elizabeth picked up a bottle labeled "Establishing a Character Trait" and walloped it right over Norrington's head. He slumped to the floor, unconscious after just one hit.

"I, uh…" Think, Elizabeth! Think of a good throwaway line. She had just watched an Indiana Jones movie last night… "No ticket!"

Not understanding the reference, the patrons picked Norrington up and hurled him into the mud-filled pig sty out in the back. Elizabeth hustled after him, taking great care where she stepped.

"James Norrington," she sighed, leaning over him. "What has the world done to you?"

"Elizabeth!" He wiped the mud from his face. "It's been a year since I've seen you. You don't look a day over thirteen." His astonished eyes took on a leer. "That's a good thing."

"Uh huh. Well, I'm running away to save Will via teaming up with Jack and it's a good thing I'm engaged. Otherwise the mounting sexual tension I feel for him would be almost too much to bear." She gave an insecure laugh. "Want to come with?"

"Jack Sparrow?" Norrington frowned, allowing her to help him to his feet. "Does he have a little sister?"

"We can ask when we see him," she humored him, knowing just how much her heart would race when she saw those familiar black sails…and those familiar black eyes.

* * *

**A/N: Don't own _Cutthroat Island_, never even seen it. I watched DMC not too long ago and the new thing I noticed (because I notice something new every time) is that one of the guys they just hired comes to Jack's defense and restrains Norrington going, "That's our captain you're threatening" or something like that. It's so sweet that it makes me kind of sad that guy is probably kraken shit by now. I also adored the idea of Elizabeth channeling an Indiana Jones movie. It's from _Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade._**


	20. The Dysfunctional Turner Family Scene

Deep in the recesses of the _Flying Dutchman, _Davy Jones used his tentacles to pound out a mournful tune on his organ with such ferocity and angst the Phantom of the Opera would be jealous.

Meanwhile, up on the main deck, a raging tempest churned the waves.

"Nautical terms, Mr. Turner!" the inhuman bo'sun ordered. Both Will and Bootstrap ran up to secure what looks to be the mast in the movie…

"Step aside!" Will rebuffed the coral reef next to him, wondering why he was so heavily invested in acting like a member of the crew on a ship he had been tricked onto in the first place. Boredom, he supposed, lack of alternatives, lack of swords.

Shove off!" the coral reef pushed him back.

"Fuck you!" Will slapped him.

"Fuck you!" The coral reef man pounced on Will and pulled his hair.

"Chick fight!" the rest of the crew yelled, abandoning their posts and whipping out their camera phones to capture to the action.

"Wait…chick…William!" Bootstrap released his son, his mouth agape. It couldn't be! This sort of coincidence was reserved for things out of Shakespeare, or Dickens at the most. But not in a summer blockbuster! It just couldn't be his son condemned to serve on the ship from hell.

"Haul that weevil to his feet!" The bo'sun marched over to them and grabbed Will by the collar. "You completely fucked up that nautical term. Five lashes!"

"No, I'll take them," Bootstrap offered. "Makes up for not giving him a college tuition or signing him up for Little League or taking him on a fishing trip…"

"What's this I hear? Is that the revolting sound of sentimental regret?" Davy Jones appeared before them, his eyes glaring daggers. "What would prompt such an act of charity?"

"He's my son."

Will spun around, his heart skipping a beat. The shock forced all five stages of grief to come at once. That can't be my dad! You were a terrible father, pirating bastard! Okay, I'll take that back if we go out for milkshakes one time. I'm so depressed because Daddy left me when I was just a little kid! But, hey, that's life.

"Five lashings," Davy Jones repeated the bo'sun's sentence, only this time he handed the cat o'nine tails to Bootstrap.

"No! I won't!"

"The cat's out of the bag, Mr. Turner! Your issue will feel its sting, be it by the bo'sun's hand or your own."

The crew tore open Will's shirt, revealing the pale, pristine skin about to be marred by angry wounds. With a shaking hand, Bootstrap took hold of the instrument and flicked its talents onto Will's back. Fighting tears and screams, Will swore this was the last time he would help Jack with anything.

At last the torture ended and the marine crewmen hauled him down the steps, a broken, shivering little boy without a father.

"William!" Bootstrap followed him.

"Don't touch me! I'll call Child Services on your ass so fast it'll make your head spin!"

"The bo'sun prides himself on cleaving flesh from bone with every swing. You're welcome. Hey." Bootstrap opened his arms. "We'll squeeze in a few counseling sessions while you're here. The orca-looking guy needs so many hours before he can get his PhD."

"Daddy!" They threw their arms around each other and brought one another up to speed on the last several years.

"One hundred years before the mast," Bootstrap sighed, retiring below decks with Will after their game of catch, which, since this is the _Dutchman_, was the Oyster guy's pearl. "Losing your world bit by bit, until you end up like poor Wally the Wall here. Once you've sworn an oath, there's no going back."

"I've sworn no oath," Will said.

"Then you must get away."

"Not until I find this," Will said, producing the draw-ring of the key.

"Ooh! That's the dead man's chest!" Wally poked his head out of the wall. "Shiny!"

"Do you know where it is?"

"Who me? Naw, I'm just a wall," Wally said. "Open the chest and stab the heart. The _Dutchman _needs a living heart, or there'll be no captain, and if there's no captain, there's no one to have the key."

"So the captain has the key," Will said, seemingly forgetting that Tia Dalma had pretty much told him the exact same thing not too long ago, and under better conditions to boot. "How can I ever thank you for your information? Ass. Bitch."

"Just don't let them hang a portrait on me," Wally the Wall said before retreating back into the bulkhead.

* * *

**A/N: Do not own the Phantom of the Opera. Yes, I know the character in this scene is actually named Wyvern.**


	21. The Scene That Reveals the Magic Prop

There she was, oh, there she was! The _Pearl_, so absolutely beautiful Elizabeth nearly skipped down the pier. Craning her neck, she scanned it for Jack until she spotted him.

"Captain Sparrow!"

"Come to join me crew, lad? Welcome aboard."

No, no, that wasn't how their reunion was supposed to go, Elizabeth thought, her face falling. She was inches away from breaking into a run, leaving Norrington where he stood vomiting to grip Jack by the shoulders and shake him until he came to his senses and reenacted the moment they met when he took her hostage.

"I've come to find the man who said I had him at Scene Five."

Jack turned and froze at the sight of her, his eyes bulging. "Elizabeth." Be cool, man, he told himself, strutting over to her. "So pleased to see you without my rum up in flames in the background. Shall we go have a roll in the hay?"

This is more like it, she smiled.

"Let's get the business out of the way first," she said. "Where's Will?"

"Darling, I am truly unhappy to have to tell you this, but through an unfortunate and entirely unforeseeable series of circumstances that have nothing whatsoever to do with me, poor Will has been press ganged into Davy Jones' crew."

"Press ganged?" she snickered.

"I know. It does have a rather dirty ring to it."

"Oh, please," Norrington spoke up, wiping the vomit off his chin with his sleeve. "The captain of the _Flying Dutchman_?"

"No, Davy Jones the goat herder," Jack said. "What are you even doing here?"

"You hired me!"

"Jack, the sooner we get this done…" Elizabeth hinted, gaining his attention again. "Now, we need to know how to find Will."

"Threesome, eh?"

"Well, it would be a foursome if James gets his way." They looked back at Norrington as they walked down the pier together, cringing at him taking off his coat and dumping the vomit and pig shit out of his pockets.

"All right, that's going to put me out of the mood if I don't do something," Jack muttered. "I have an idea. There is a chest."

Elizabeth covered her chest with her arms.

"No offense, love, but the one I'm talking about is a little bigger."

"It contains the heart of Davy Jones!" Pintel announced, going by with Ragetti, carrying up a few baskets. "We know the whole story, Muppet! Can we tell you all about it?"

"The heart goes like this." Ragetti motioned his hand like it was thumping. "Miss Elizabeth? Miss Elizabeth! You're not looking!"

"And whoever possesses the chest possesses the leverage to command Jones to do whatever it is he or she wants, including saving brave William from his grim fate," Jack continued, ignoring Pintel and Ragetti.

"What are they doing back?" she asked.

"Lizzie, let's take your own advice here," he warned, his eyes anxious.

"Oh, okay. Well, how do we find it?"

"Ah! With this!" He pulled out his compass, opened it, and clamped it back down again. "My compass is unique."

"Unique here having the meaning of broken," Norrington scoffed.

"Unique here having the meaning of huge and virile."

"Unique here having the meaning of limp and small."

"Unique here having the meaning of an impotent and disgraced Commodore," Jack snapped. "True enough, this compass does not point north."

"Where does it point?" Elizabeth asked, the corners of her mouth turning up, her gaze drifting downward.

"It points to the thing you want most in the world," Jack said, noticing his gaze drifting downwards also. Perfect timing. He had just bought all those scented candles, and had been saving those rose petals for a special occasion.

"Are you telling the truth, Jack?"

"Every word, love. And the thing you want most in this world is to find the chest of Davy Jones, is it not?" He picked up her hand and laid his compass into it.

"Well…"

"For right now?"

"Sure." He flipped up the lid for her and backed away. Sure enough, the arrow wobbled, and then inched its way out towards the horizon.

"Mr. Gibbs!" Jack called, fighting the urge to bounce up and down like a kid in a candy store. "We have our heading! Nautical terms, make sure everyone is ready to go, and then go into the hold and find me the maple syrup."

"Nautical terms!" Gibbs called. "Nice to have ye here with us, Miss Elizabeth. We'll be needing an extra pair of eyes to keep an eye on Pintel and Ragetti."

"But I was going to…" she trailed off, looking to Jack for an excuse. His shoulders slumped, but he gave her a wink.

"Relax, love. Plenty of time." He watched her walk up the plank to the deck of the _Pearl_, and then laughed as Pintel and Ragetti handed off one of the goats to Norrington. This voyage would be satisfying in more ways than one.

* * *

**A/N: Sigh, yes, I know it's slightly out of character for Jack to legitimately buy anything, but it's Lizzie!**


	22. The Scene with Bondage and Release

"There's something to knowing the exact shape of the world and one's place in it, don't you agree?" Beckett gazed at his map, growing ever larger. With Governor Swann in custody, it was one step closer to world domination, which implied Jack domination.

"I assure you, this is not necessary." Governor Swann had been positioned on a dolly, straitjacketed, and given a mask to cover his nose and mouth.

"I thought you might be interested in the whereabouts of your daughter," Beckett said, enjoying the sight.

"You have news of her? She will be back in time for our Father-Daughter Self Defense class, won't she?" Not even the mask could hide the epitome of hope shining in Governor Swann's eyes.

"Uh, no. Mr. Mercer, care to explain?"

Mercer had been sitting in the back, punching himself with brass knuckles and coming close to an orgasm from said actions.

"Mr. Mercer?"

"Oh! Sorry. She was last seen in Tortuga, leaving in the company of known pirate, Jack Sparrow, and other fugitives from justice. Sir, may I release the hounds on him?"

"Save those for later," Beckett said. "Instead, ponder this sword. The writers will tell you to pay great attention to it but I'll save you the trouble since it takes the focus away from other plot points. It's Norrington's sword that Will made and Will will eventually be killed with it. Ironic? Yes. Great twist of fate? Yes. Other significance of any kind? Not really. Our ships are in pursuit, Governor. You won't be seeing them in this movie, but they're there. Justice will be dispensed by cannonade and cutlass and all manner of remorseless pieces of metal. I personally find it distasteful to even contemplate the horror facing all those on board."

"You can't threaten me," Governor Swann scoffed. "I've seen enough movies to know how this works. If Elizabeth gets hit with enough shrapnel, she'll just become Iron Man." Although he was worried about Elizabeth being alone with both Jack Sparrow and James Norrington. Jack Sparrow was an infamous pirate, soaking wet last he'd seen him and now that Norrington was disgraced and exploring his own duality, Elizabeth could very well be turned on by that seeing as how she liked bad boys.

"Look, I want your authority as governor, your influence in London, and your loyalty to the East India Trading Company."

"Do what you can for my daughter," Governor Swann agreed, feeling an itch on his shoulder he couldn't reach in the straitjacket. "If it's at all possible, try to get her back by Saturday. That was when we were going to our chastity ball. Can't be too careful with pirates running around."

* * *

**A/N: Governor Swann's restraints here are based off of Hannibal Lecter's in _The Silence of the Lambs_. Do not own it or _Iron Man_.**


	23. The Even Will Starts Pirating Scene

Ah, Liar's Dice, the game pirates play that rewards lies and was inexplicably marketed to children. Will watched the crewmen shake the cups and the dice splay out on the damp, seaweed-covered table.

"Wondering how it's played?" Bootstrap came up from behind him holding two ice cream cones. "Hurry up and eat that. I swiped these out of the Captain's cabin."

"Davy Jones likes ice cream?"

"Only because of the headache that comes when you eat it too fast," Bootstrap said. "Remember he's not the merriest guy around. So…want to know how to play Liar's Dice?"

"Already do." Will unfolded the game instructions. "It's a game of deception, but your bet includes all the dice, not just your own. Do you guys play where if the dice lands on the Free Parking space, you get the money in the middle? I guess money wouldn't matter here. Say, do they wager their swords? I bet I could win some really sweet swords while I'm here so I won't have to steal anyone's later. Swords are so awesome. That's what I do for a living, Dad. I make swords. Soon, I will be making swords and babies."

"I know, I know. No, they don't wager swords. They wager years of service. That's all we have, though. That and our swords."

"And pistols."

"And pistols."

"And sinister-looking personas."

"Well, yes, you can't underestimate the importance of those…I call winner!" he shouted out to the players.

"I do too!" Will said. "And I challenge Davy Jones!"

A series of thuds answered him, the rest of the ship in complete silence. They grew louder and louder as Davy Jones finally came into view.

"I accept! The stakes?"

The crewmen set up the table, watching the audacious, normal-looking new guy raise a confident eyebrow at their captain.

"My soul, an eternity of servitude."

"My boy, you do know how high a cost that is?" Davy Jones asked, his tongue rolling around in delight.

"Wouldn't be so bad," Will bluffed. "I saw the library…"

"…all tragedies!" Davy Jones snapped. "Not a happy ending in any of them!"

"…and the giant trampoline looks like fun."

"…until you fall off and need medical attention!"

"…you even have a class that teaches how to fold towels to look like animals." Will shot a proud nod over at the shark-faced sailor who was the instructor, finding it somehow cute that he was still able to blush.

"Fine! And if you win?"

Wordlessly, Will dropped the draw-ring of the key onto the table.

"How do you know of the key?" Davy Jones gasped.

"That's not part of the game is it?" He squashed the instructions up into Davy Jones' face. "Nowhere in here does Milton Bradley mention keys. He also doesn't mention untamable women or hearts locked away in chests."

The crew gasped, especially Bootstrap. If his son wasn't careful, he would be reduced to spending his eternity taking the basket weaving class. He shuddered. Baskets! An eternity of baskets as far as the eye could see! No, not his boy. His boy was no basket-weaving pansy! He was a sword-making blacksmith, due to be married and making babies.

"Count me in," Bootstrap said, pulling up a chair. "I match his wager."

"Where'd you get a chair?" Will asked. "I'm on my knees here." Davy Jones drew back his arm and smacked Bootstrap across the face, swiping his chair. Pouting, Bootstrap sat on his knees.

Davy Jones removed the key, strung around his neck like a necklace, and laid it on the table. They all shook their cups full of dice and turned them over, lifting the cups just enough to see what they had.

"I bid three twos. It's your bid, Captain."

"Four fours," Davy Jones purred, his tentacles rubbing together at the prospect of sending Will to the basket-weaving course for all eternity. Separated from the love of his life and weaving baskets? What a delicious punishment for his arrogance! And Bootstrap would be forced to live with that fact, his son a basket-weaving pansy. It was a tragedy of orgasmic proportions.

"Four fives," Will said.

"Six threes," Bootstrap said. Now, here is a perk about being an audience member rather than a character. Omniscience! Davy Jones has one four and four fives. Will has a two, a one, and three fives, and Bootstrap has three twos and two threes. What you're meant to infer from this is that things aren't looking well for Bootstrap.

"Er, I got a good one to lighten the mood!" Bootstrap offered, realizing his own predicament. "I couldn't quite remember how to throw a boomerang, but eventually it came back to me! Ha ha ha! Get it? I got a million of 'em. What do you call cheese that isn't yours? Nacho cheese!"

"Good Lord, I'm going to end this now," Davy Jones said. "Seven fives."

"Eight fives," Will said.

"Welcome to the crew, lad…"

"Twelve fives!" Bootstrap blurted. "What? I'm not as good a catch as my son? Too high and mighty for William Turner Senior, huh? Call me liar or up the bet!"

"And be called a liar myself for my trouble!" He took his tentacle and flicked the cup off the table. "Bootstrap Bill, you're a liar and you will spend an eternity on this ship! I'll expect you at the basket-weaving class at 8am sharp. Master Turner, feel free to go ashore…the next time we make port! Neither of ye has a pun for that, ye stupid little family with your hopes and dreams? You make me sick!" He threw the table over in true barroom fashion and retreated into his cabin to play another macabre piece of music.

"Dad? Why'd you do that?"

"I couldn't let you lose. If you don't weave the basket correctly, they stick a cattle prod to you. Plus they sell those baskets to the black market, which I morally oppose."

"It was never about winning or losing."

"The key? You just wanted to know where it was, even though two characters pretty much told you flat-out that Davy Jones keeps it with him?"

"Specifics, Dad! I need to know exactly where it is. Can't just go feel up an octopus-man now, can you?"

Feeling more than stupid, Bootstrap closed his eyes in thought.

"I got an idea."

Minutes later, he strolled up the steps to the helm where some sharp-looking creature was.

"Captain says aerobics class got bumped up to now."

"Oh boy!" the creature clapped his hands. "I've lost fifteen pounds since I started! And that oyster guy has great thighs!" He ran down below decks. Bootstrap chuckled to himself and took hold of the wheel.

Meanwhile, Will tiptoed into the captain's cabin, hoping the door wouldn't creak shut behind him. Davy Jones lied sleeping on his organ.

"That is so hot," a deranged Davy Jones fangirl in the audience said, forcing the narrator to rephrase.

Davy Jones sat on his organ bench, slumped over and facing his pipe organ that is not attached to him in any way and is for the purpose of creating music…literal music.

Second-guessing touching the tentacles with his bare hands and contracting a sullied and unusual feeling, Will picked up two quill pens and sifted through the tentacles until he saw a gleam, the key catching the soft light. Snagging it, Will rolled up the draw-ring of the key and stuck it in the same spot. With just as much stealth as he had mustered before, Will left the cabin, the only sound a girlish "hee hee hee" as he left. Turning around up to the helm, he waved over at his father to signal he had it.

"Here," Bootstrap said, handing him a knife. "Take this, too. It was my whittling knife. Had I stuck with that hobby, I might not have gone out pirating. It was always in my blood to die at sea, but it was not a fate I ever wanted for you."

"Dad, we all know thanks to the first movie that your blood is interchangeable with my blood. You didn't have to go pirating. You could have just robbed a liquor store every once in a while if it was the adrenaline you needed, or hell, just had sex with Mum in weird places."

"Will, I could say I did what I had to, that I needed to go out pirating, but it would taste a lie to say it wasn't what I wanted. You owe me nothing. Now go."

"They'll know you helped me. They'll never believe I could have come up with this on my own. The cleverest thing I've ever done is learn how to play Liar's Dice in a matter of minutes!"

"Meh, what more can they do to me?" Bootstrap laughed. He would never admit it to Will, but he had always been sort of intrigued by the basket-weaving process. He snapped out of his thoughts when he saw Will pull a knife on him. "Whoa! Hey! I thought we were friends now!"

"I'm not going to stab you. I'm going to stab Davy Jones' heart! I'll avenge you, Dad. I won't abandon you, I promise."

"Are you sure you want to go around promising weird things?" Bootstrap asked with a grimace.

"It's just a heart. What harm ever came of stabbing a heart?"

* * *

**A/N: Free Parking is a Monopoly reference. Will's last line is channeling Rachel Weisz's immortal "whatever harm came from reading a book" line in _The Mummy. _Don't own POTC, but would appreciate more reviews.**


	24. The Disney Style Sexual Tension Scene

Well, after the monotone greenish-ness of the _Flying Dutchman_, who's ready for some color? The sun shone down on the _Pearl_, speeding along against the sparkling sea, although from the shots on the ship itself, she always looks like she's going considerably slower.

"Hey, I've got my own problems," the _Pearl _said.

I'm sorry. You're only the fastest ship in the Caribbean that also happens to be gorgeous and the apple of not only Jack's, but Barbossa's, eye.

"Yes, but now I've got this bitch on my deck that's stealing my thunder."

Oh. Well…I do understand your predicament. You could try to get to know Elizabeth. I'm sure you would like her.

"Really?

Sure. She's partially responsible for freeing you from your curse, after all, and she's not trying to commandeer you or set you on fire or anything like that.

"So you want me to like her based on the fact that she's not trying to hurt me?"

Hey, it works for the _Twilight _series. I'm no good at counseling ships. Let's see what our heroes are up to.

"Beckett!" Gibbs gasped.

"Yes, they're signed. Lord Cutler Beckett of the East India Trading Company." Elizabeth gave a confused look to both Gibbs and Jack. "Why are we just now discussing this? I've been here since last night and seemed pretty adamant about saving Will." She looked over at Jack. "And I thought you were in a time crunch."

All of them pondered the question and then dismissed it.

"Will was working for Beckett and never said a word! Beckett wants the compass…only one reason for that," Gibbs said. "He's lost his own."

"Or…" Jack prompted gently.

"Er, this is all an elaborate setup orchestrated by Beckett to see you again and subsequently seduce you?"

"Try again," Jack said, making a face. "I think it might have something to do with the chest."

"Yes," Elizabeth said, patting Gibbs' back. "Beckett did mention a chest."

"If the Company controls the chest…they would control the sea!" Gibbs' eyes bulged.

"Good job!" Jack said. "Although it is a discomforting notion. But you thought of it all by yourself!"

"Now you two stop patronizing me!" He shoved them. "I'm first mate of this ship and I've been sailing longer than you two have been alive! I'm going to go coax some speed from these sails. Nautical terms!" he said, cursing himself for thinking there were two magical compasses.

"Are there two magical compasses?" Elizabeth asked.

"Don't change the subject. When's this going to happen?"

"What?"

"The hook-up, love! The hook-up! Last night was a perfect opportunity and we squandered it."

"I was helping out and who was it said, 'we have plenty of time'?"

"And now I hear you're making deals with Cutler Beckett, using some unfriendly persuasion, if I don't miss my guess, and you want me to just stand here and imagine it and do nothing about it?" In retaliation, he stole the Letters of Marque she had out and skimmed them. "Full pardon…commission as a privateer on behalf of England and the East India Trading Company…ha! As if I could be bought for such a low price, although notice I am hanging onto them. Anything can be leverage."

"Give those back! I swiped them at the point of a pistol fair and square!" Elizabeth shouted.

"No. Persuade me."

"We haven't even gotten to do anything yet and you're already talking about role-playing?" she whispered in his ear. "Let's make it swordplay."

"You are in a dirty mood," he said. "I'll get my sword."

"Don't you have it on you?"

"Do you see it? It's in the cabin. I'm going to go in there and get it and that's where I'll be for the next several minutes. Hint hint." He walked backwards to it, giving her a knowing look as he closed the door.

Giddy, Elizabeth looked around her to make sure no one was going to obstruct her path and started for the cabin door.

"It's a curious thing," Norrington said, standing in front of the door.

"What is?" She moved to the left. He mirrored her. She moved to the right. He blocked again.

"We were so close to having our own hook-up, out in Isla de Muerta where our summer house would have been. Imagine, our naked rolling bodies making love on top of treasure. Now you're here slumming it and I'm one step away from being a pirate myself! It's perfect! Come on!"

"James, you're being absurd. You're like an older brother to me…one that fancied me as a child. It was creepy and you know it!"

"So are pirate fetishes."

"Anyways, now that you're one step away from being a pirate yourself, I don't even know you anymore! Jack, I know. Jack is someone I can trust. I have a feeling he'll be willing to cuddle afterwards. I had him since Scene Five, you know..." She grinned, reminiscing. "And he had me."

"Oh please. Trust? So you never wondered how your latest fiancé ended up on the _Flying Dutchman _in the first place?" Giving her an exasperated look, he stomped away, kicking the _Pearl _as he went.

"Let me at him! Let me at him, the _Pearl _said. "The girl is a hundred times better than the kicker!"

He did swab your deck, you know.

"But he kicked me! And he doesn't like Jack at all! Do you know what Jack would have done if he'd seen him kick me?"

Yes, shot him. He would have relished it and thrown Elizabeth over his shoulder and into the cabin while he was still high off of it. Yes, I have imagined this vividly.

"Well, he needs to get his comeuppance, some kind of ironic death."

Aren't you the vengeful one? Let's see what Elizabeth is about to do.

Pausing, Elizabeth flipped open the compass and watched the arrow spin. Looking up, she saw Jack taking the helm.

"Hey!"

"Sorry, love," he called down to her. "Cotton abandoned his post and we were about to hit some really sharp rocks."

"Oh. That's okay. We still have plenty of time."

* * *

**A/N: I do not own _Twilight _and please don't come find me and kill me for making fun of it! It's just so easy to do. It's only going to get dirtier from here, folks.**


	25. The Kraken Mad Kraken Smash Scene

"Strange thing to come upon a longboat so far out in open waters," Captain Bellamy asked, giving a suspicious look to Will, covered in a warm blanket drinking strong, hot coffee.

"Just get me the hell out of here."

"Where are we going?"

To find the _Black Pearl _so I can splash this piping hot coffee all across Jack's face and watch him burn, Will thought, but couldn't admit he wanted them to find a pirate ship. "Just put as many leagues behind us as you can, as fast as you can."

"And what are we running from?" Captain Bellamy nodded over at Curly to get the rifle. His mother had always told him not to pick up hitchhikers, that each one was crazier than a sack of rabid weasels. He should have listened.

"Er…that dress." Holy shit, Elizabeth was here. She'd see he hadn't retrieved the compass. She'd call him a failure and then run off and find a successful compass-snatcher! Wait a second, he thought. This means she's safe from the death threat. I can concentrate on helping my deadbeat dad now!

"Oh that. It's not mine. I didn't put it on or anything." Captain Bellamy's eyes darted to and fro. "It was found aboard the ship. The men thought it was an omen of ill fate. All that doom-and-gloom nonsense is sooo not my style."

"It actually brought good fortune," Moe said, chiming into the conversation. "The spirit told us to pull in at Tortuga and we made a nice bit of profit there."

"And got drunk off our asses!" Larry shouted. Moe punched him in the gut and then kneed him in the head.

"I imagine some of your crew may have jumped ship there," Will said. So Elizabeth went to Tortuga. He had said he was going to start looking for Jack in Tortuga. Elizabeth had gone looking for Jack in Tortuga, which meant Elizabeth was probably with Jack right now. Oh no! His eyes widened, his heart racing in terror. That could only mean one thing…Jack told her about the abandoned idea to go and make a copy of the key! Now she would not only find him a failure at compass snatching, but at an integral part of the blacksmith profession! It was all over. She'd throw the engagement ring in his face and spit on the donkey back at the shop.

"Captain, a ship's been spotted!" Curly said. "And it's not flying any colors."

"Pirates!" Captain Bellamy shouted.

"Or worse," Will muttered.

"Not a ship of Captain Bellamy fangirls?" Larry shook with fear.

Will looked out to the sea.

"It's the _Flying Dutchman_!" he shouted. "I've doomed us all."

All of a sudden, the entire ship rollicked, an eerie creak sending waves of nausea into each and every man.

"Mother Carrie's chickens!" one of them said. DISCLAIMER: I am not making this up. Watch the movie. Apparently, this used to be a figure of speech that thankfully is no longer in use. "What happened?"

"We must've hit a reef!" Moe cried.

"Nautical terms!"

As soon as Captain Bellamy said it, an endless tentacle breached out of the sea and curled him into it, flinging him out to the sea with a sickening smack upon the water.

"Kraken!" Curly shrieked.

Sure enough, dozens of wild tentacles swept over the deck, rampaging everything in sight, wrapping up crewmen and dragging them down to the depths. The men scrambled in a blind panic, stray bullets and harpoons flying.

"Here! Take it!" Larry screeched, holding up the wedding dress.

"IT'S NOT MY TASTE!" the kraken gurgled under the water, but no one could hear it over the frenzy and even if they could, no one in these movies speaks kraken…maybe Ragetti does.

Will, who had thought it a good idea to be up in the crow's nest when he saw the _Flying Dutchman_, slid down the sail, using his father's knife to control his speed and prepare for his landing. It is truly a moment to celebrate stunt work.

Congratulations, Will, he thought. The coolest thing you've ever done and none of your friends were around to see it.

"Fuck!" he cried, jumping over a tentacle and diving into the water. Before his eyes, the _Edinburgh Trader _disintegrated into tiny splinters, sending the subconscious message to the audience that unless you're a pirate, you're just not going to make it. Will cleaved onto some driftwood, and a wave of nostalgia washed over him. How many times would he narrowly dodge being killed on a ship?

* * *

**A/N: Okay, this is one of those times that having the script really comes in handy. Thanks again, Fedah and Colozamia, whoever you are! For the longest time, after Captain Bellamy says, "Pirates" in this scene, I always thought Will said, "what else," which would have been a very sarcastic comment on his part and I thought it was sort of making fun of the fact that this is the only time we get to see any regular sailors. Well, he actually says, "or worse," meaning he knows Davy Jones has found him and some serious trouble is about to go down. I would have preferred Will to be sarcastic. He is always better when he's got an attitude. Again, don't own the Three Stooges or POTC.**


	26. The Scene Bill Nighy Chose to Ham Up

"Long, drawn-out noooooooo!" Bootstrap wailed, the crewmen restraining him. Within seconds, he sprouted some more marine growth.

"The boy's not among the wreckage," the hammerhead guy said. "He must have been claimed by the sea."

"Where have you been these last several years?" Davy Jones asked, incredulous. "Our sole task is to find those who die at sea. If he was dead, we would be more likely to find him than if he was alive! Good Lord, I'm surrounded by morons! This is why I'm the Captain, understand? I know the rules and corrupt them as I see fit! Now then, to business." He glared at Bootstrap. "You! Down to the origami class for you. I heard it through the rumor mill you would have enjoyed basket weaving. Hammerhead guy, leave no survivors."

In the background, the hammerhead guy started hacking away at the unlucky survivors, except for one.

"The chest is no longer safe," Davy Jones said, not knowing Will was in earshot. "Chart a course for Isla Cruces. Get me there first or there'll be the devil to pay."

"First?" the pufferfish-looking guy asked.

"Who sent that thieving charlatan onto my ship?" Davy Jones asked. Will beamed, his chest swelling. It was some mighty big character development, going from a whelp to a thieving charlatan. "Who told them of the key? Jack Sparrow!"

* * *

**A/N: I like leaving notes, but this short scene just speaks for itself. Onto Curiosity!**


	27. The Shipping Wars Begin Scene

Wow, doesn't this movie just treat your heart rate like a chew toy, how quickly it jumps from mood to mood? We're about to transition again, going back to the _Pearl_, where Elizabeth was sitting on the steps looking melancholy.

"My tremendous intuitive sense of the female creature informs me that you are troubled," Jack said, handing a bottle of rum off to her, deciding now was the time to initiate the hook-up.

"I just thought I'd be married by now," Elizabeth said. "I'm so ready to be married."

Jack whipped out his _Guide to the Female Creature _book, written by Tom Clancy, of all people, and quickly read that that translated to, "I need to get laid." Of course. He should have guessed.

"You know, Lizzie," he cleared his throat. "I am captain of a ship and being captain of a ship, I could in fact perform a marri-age, right here, right on this deck. Right now."

Elizabeth took out her _Understanding Jack's Use of Language _by Willofthewisp (who else?) and saw this meant, "Have sex with me right this minute." She sighed. She had hoped for more commitment, more…love? Well, that was a conundrum seeing as how she was engaged to Will, she thought, standing up and moving over to the railing. She sensed she was about to be put in the middle of a love triangle that had been in the works since, I don't know, the minute the screen showed her in her underwear with a soaking wet pirate next to her who had just undressed her.

"Is that a no? Why not? We are very much alike, you and I, I and you. Us."

Elizabeth didn't need her book to know that translated to, "Don't you remember our peas in a pod scene when I already stressed this point? Why aren't we fucking like rabbits right now?"

"All except for a sense of honor and decency and a moral center," Elizabeth rattled off, hoping he would understand this was her way of saying she needed to be sure she would be more than a one-night stand. "And personal hygiene."

Jack winced. That apparently needed no translation.

"Trifles," he said, changing the subject, but only slightly. "You will come over to my side I know it."

"You seem very certain."

"One word, love. Curiosity. You long for freedom. You long to do what you want to do because you want it—to act on selfish impulse. You want to see what it's like. One day, you won't be able to resist."

Now, under normal circumstances when Jack is not around Elizabeth, he's very good about disguising his true motives, but all that was just pretty much admitting why he was attracted to her in the first place.

"Why doesn't your compass work?" Elizabeth asked, giving birth to the worst transition ever in the history of the entire series.

Jack flipped through his book at a ferocious speed, hoping it didn't mean she thought he was impotent. Ah, he breathed a sigh of relief. It was an icebreaker to discuss his morality. He could live with that.

"My compass works fine, emphasis on fine here, love," he added, just in case.

"Because you and I are alike and there will come a time when you have the chance to show it, to do the right thing," she said, jumping way ahead of the script to where Jack will ultimately do the right thing, because there is no other reason in the world for her to assume at this point that Jack's compass not working has anything to do with the state of his ethics.

"I love those moments. I love to wave at them as they pass by," Jack said, not bothering to look up that last sentence because there was no way in hell something that irrelevant that cropped up out of nowhere would be in that book. Tom Clancy doesn't know a woman like he knows a submarine.

"You'll have the chance to do something, something courageous," Elizabeth said, remembering some very specific dreams. "And when you do, you'll discover something—that you're a good man."

Aha! Jack gave her a slight smile. That was it. Her "safe" way of admitting why SHE was attracted to HIM in the first place. This was going better than he thought. He'd have her in that cabin before you could say "plot device of dirt."

"All evidence to the contrary," he said, fishing for more compliments.

"No, I have faith in you," Elizabeth said, smiling out at the sea. "Want to know why?"

"Do tell, dearie."

"Curiosity. You're going to want it." She leaned in closer to him. "A chance to be admired and gain the rewards that follow…namely me. You won't be able to resist. You're going to want to know what it tastes like, especially after you've taken the silk thong off of it."

Okay, that's enough foreplay, Jack thought, ready to go.

"I do want to know what it tastes like. I'll translate for you to save time: let's have the hook-up now." He pushed back some of her hair, leaned in, and had just about closed his eyes to revel in her kiss when the reappearance of the dreaded black spot surfaced on his hand. "Fuck!"

"What do you think I'm trying to get us to do?" Elizabeth said, rolling her eyes, irritated.

"Land ho!" an extra called.

Jack and Elizabeth exchanged looks and then pouted at the same time.

"It's not going to happen, is it?" she asked, looking down at the deck.

"Not at this rate," Jack said. "Can you do me a favor and go get my plot device of dirt? You can always run away with me when this is all over."

"And you say you're not a good man," she laughed, going over to the _Pearl_'s safe to retrieve the plot device of dirt.

* * *

**A/N: I tortured myself trying to make this scene funny in some way. Tortured. It's just so covert in what it's doing that I wanted to do something with translations and hence, the guidebooks were born. I don't own Tom Clancy or his books, by the way. So I just ran with it and things got a little…adult. It's hard to keep finding ways to prevent Jack and Lizzie from getting together here!**


	28. The Scandinavians Cringe Scene

Out in a longboat, Jack clutched the plot device of dirt, blocking out the conversation between Pintel and Ragetti. Unfortunately for Elizabeth and Norrington, they were too close in proximity to tune them out.

"You're pulling too fast!" Pintel barked.

"You're pulling too slow! We don't want the kraken to catch us," Ragetti said. "Let's not forget our dear friend, the much learned Francois De La Rochefoucauld and what he said about people who pull too slow… 'We are often more treacherous through weakness than through calculation.'"

"If you don't stop with this whole philosophy kick, I'm going to punch you in the face," Pintel growled. "I'm saving my strength for when the kraken comes and here's a little bit of MY hobby. The word 'kraken' is Scandinavian in origin and roughly translates to 'sick animal.'"

"I did not know that!" Ragetti marveled.

"Knowing is half the battle."

The others in the longboat felt like jumping out and taking their chances. But the rough sensation of the boat scraping against the sand beat them to it, and they unloaded the shovels and equipment…well, they watched Norrington unload the shovels and equipment.

"Guard the boat, mind the tide, and don't touch my plot device," Jack warned them, making sure to stick a Kick-Me sign on Norrington's back. He sighed. It was indeed a sad day when that was the extent of his levity. But maybe finding the chest would change all that.

"Why am I the one carrying everything? This is no way for a former Commodore to be treated!" Norrington threw the shovels down and crossed his arms. "Elizabeth, you should carry something."

"I am." She pulled the compass out of her pocket and treated it like a hundred-pound weight. "Oh, it's so heavy! This really works the biceps!" She winced and massaged her arm. "I'm going to be sore for days! It's just too much of a strain to have to hold shovels, too!"

"Well, that tastes like sarcasm," Norrington said to the sand.

Smirking, Elizabeth followed the arrow on the compass one way before it veered off in the other direction. She followed it again.

"Is anyone here familiar with triangulation?" she asked. Neither Jack nor Norrington answered.

"And you call yourselves sailors!" she said in a huff and threw the compass onto the ground. "It doesn't work! And it certainly doesn't show you what you want most!" She drooped down and sat cross-legged on the sand.

Wondering if this was some kind of temper tantrum she was throwing and if she was just in need of a good spanking, Jack went over to her to inspect the compass. Of course, since he was not holding it, by all accounts it should not have changed at all, but apparently looking at it is good enough as the arrow changed direction once more.

"Yes, it does," he said. "You're sitting on it."

"My ass? Jack, this is neither the time nor the place…"

"Move," he said, sighing, making a mental note to include spanking in their hook-up. Motioning to Norrington to start digging, he walked a few feet away and sat in a lotus position, pondering the film's recent events and trying to predict if the critics would leave them good reviews. He could just barely hear Pintel and Ragetti in the background.

"Guard the boat and mind the tide," Pintel scoffed, watching Ragetti balance a shovel on his fingers.

"I could join the circus," Ragetti boasted, launching the shovel up and catching it on his head. He held the plot device of dirt with one hand and a copy of the script in his other and then jumped onto a beach ball. "Look at my balancing skills!"

"Huh," Pintel snorted. "Philosophy and balancing."

"I was impressed with your word derivation skills," Ragetti said.

"Aw, shucks."

* * *

**A/N: "Knowing is half the battle" was at the end of every episode of _GI Joe_ when there would be some stupid public service announcement.**


	29. The Pointless Transition Scene

"The idiots are already here!" Davy Jones shouted, a deep rumble from his throat. The crewmen eyed him and approached the forecastle of the ship where they saw Pintel and Ragetti playing a feverish game of Rock/Paper/Scissors. "If I could set food on land now instead of a decade from now I'd show that short one that Rock crushes Scissors!"

"We'll go in your stead, sir," the hammerhead-guy said.

"Don't fail me," Davy Jones warned.

Stan, the newest addition to the _Flying Dutchman_, felt compelled to ask what could possibly be worse than slowly being turned into a coral reef that would attach itself to the ship and lose all sense of self, but the more seasoned sailors shook their heads at him.

"Down!" Davy Jones commanded. The ship submerged into the briny depths, making the observant viewers wonder where Will had latched onto at this point. Maybe he already detached himself and was slowly dog-paddling towards the beach? Maybe he saw two dogs cavorting and couldn't resist staying to watch? Such thoughts did not cross the mind of Davy Jones, though, his scorned, bitter mind focused only on holding his hat on his head with his tentacles.

* * *

**A/N: Do not own, but would appreciate reviews!**


	30. The Guys Bang Away at Each Other Scene

If there was one thing James Norrington knew a former Naval officer did not do, it was menial labor. When he had traipsed through the sand earlier, it felt as insubstantial as powder. In between the thoughts of how the sand had magically transformed into solid rock were thoughts of how darling Elizabeth looked in her pirate garb. It was like the year she was twelve and was a pirate for Halloween. Maybe now that he was a bit scruffy she would go for him. That's it! He would do something pirate-y and talk her into adding an eye patch to her ensemble and then she would be his. He looked over at her. There was a church off in the distance. Sparrow was the captain of a ship. They could theoretically be married within the hour. He dug faster.

"Jack," he heard her say. "Since you're over there and I'm over here and neither of us is doing anything, I feel the need to tell you there is a pretty large sand dune over there. I can't see anything on the other side of it. We could do just about anything over there and no one would be the wiser."

Dig faster, man, he ordered himself. With the sun beating down on him, he thrust the shovel back into the ground, sand flying everywhere. At last he heard a thud.

"Yahtzee!" he called, waving at them. "You'll have to come and see what it was I dug up instead of…other things." He ignored Jack's murderous glare. "I bet it's the chest."

They peered down into the hole, brushing away the layer of sand on top of a massive chest. They pulled it out and whacked off the locks.

Inside were several empty ice cream cartons. Jack, Elizabeth, and Norrington shuffled through them, spotting so many mementos they felt they were experts at the relationship between Davy Jones and his fickle mistress.

"Look, here's some ticket stubs of movies they went to," Jack observed. _"Not Another Teen Movie, Date Movie, Meet the Spartans_…no wonder they broke up."

"That's nothing," Norrington said. "Look at this airbrushed t-shirt you get at the mall." Sure enough, Davy Jones' human face was airbrushed on next to Tia Dalma's. They were feeding each other pieces of a large soft pretzel. "Damn, I could go for a pretzel right now."

"I can top that," Elizabeth said, pulling out a VHS tape labeled, _Edward Penishands, Starring Davy Jones and Calypso. _"I guess Davy Jones never did look like what you'd call normal," she snickered. "Is there an old VCR on the _Pearl_?"

Before any other observations could be made and subsequently riffed, they all heard a subtle thumping sound. Underneath all the memories was a smaller chest, darker and graced with a tentacle-like pattern. They leaned their heads in and heard the distinctive sound of a heart from within the chest.

"It's real," Elizabeth marveled.

"You were actually telling the truth," Norrington said to Jack.

"I do that quite a lot and yet people are always surprised."

"With good fucking reason!"

Will made his way over to them, curiously not a bit wet from his journey.

"Will!" Elizabeth ran over to him. "I was so worried about you! You're all right! Thank God! I was just looking for you…in a hole."

"You look hot and guilty," Will said.

"Oh, never you mind about that," she laughed in a fake way. "Er, let's kiss!" She proceeded to give him the most awkward-looking kiss in cinema history, and that includes the horrible Sharon Stone/Joe Pesci kiss in _Casino._

"How did you even get here?" Jack asked, puzzled, wondering why the hell his hat hadn't come back as well.

"Sea turtles, mate, a pair of them strapped to my feet."

"Not so easy, is it?"

"But I do owe you thanks, Jack. After you tricked me onto that ship to square your debt with Jones, I was reunited with my father."

"You're welcome," Jack said, kicking the sand. Had to bring up that little betrayal…

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Elizabeth muttered, her hands stretched. "You told me Will was press-ganged onto that ship."

"Notice I never said what press-ganged meant, so I never really lied to you," Jack said.

"But the connotation! The implications!"

"Yeah, Dad and I have our issues, but we're working them out," Will said to the sand.

"What the hell, Jack? I'm good enough to spend time on your ship and give you some much-needed bantering, but not good enough for the truth?"

"Oh, bugger, we're going to get into this now?" Jack shrugged. "Time and tide, love."

"Dad is slowly becoming a part of the ship and if I don't do something, I'll be just as deadbeat a son as he was a father," Will said to a crab scuttling by.

"So what was your plan once we did save Will?" Elizabeth prompted, hands on her hips, fuming. "That we would hop on the _Dutchman_, find Will in the brig and you'd say, 'Here I come to save the day' and hope he'd have the key and then you would just bully Davy Jones into giving you whatever you wanted?"

"Yes!" Jack threw up his hands. "That was exactly my plan! Why is that frustrating to you? It's genius! Everyone wins!" Be cool, he reminded himself. Reconsider your approach here. "See how well you get me?" Before he could make the argument that it stood to reason two peas in a pod should be two hotties in a bed, he spotted Will making a move for the chest out of the corner of his eye. "Oy! What are you doing?"

"I'm going to kill Jones," Will said. "Duh."

Jack unsheathed his sword and pointed it right at Will. "Can't let you do that, William. If Jones is dead, who's to call his terrible beastie off the hunt, eh?"

"You wonder why I want to punch you in the face." Will stood.

"If you please, the key."

Still on a high from his knife-in-the-sail stunt, Will made an impressive maneuver and unsheathed Elizabeth's sword without nicking her. "I keep the promises I make, Jack. It sort of sets me apart from everyone else in this series. I intend to free my father and I hope you're here to see it."

"I can't let you do that either, so sorry," Norrington said, his sword also pointed at Will. "I too keep my promises. See, you were just the idealistic underdog last year, thrown into a world that was completely new and grander than anything you ever knew, kind of like Luke Skywalker. Now…I don't really know what your role is. Hero, I suppose. But I'm the brooding lost soul who needs to regain his chief status!"

"So then are you helping me out?" Jack wondered if an adventure with Norrington versus an adventure with Will was the lesser of those two evils.

"Oh, don't be an idiot. Beckett wants the contents of that chest! I deliver it, say hello to Governor Norrington!"

"Hey!" Elizabeth interceded.

"Sorry. Sir Norrington?" Elizabeth nodded approval. "Sir, no, Lord Norrington, admiral of a thousand fleets!" With that, he swung at Jack. Thus began a beautifully choreographed swordfight between the three men. Now, the writers claim Will is the best swordsman in the series, which is funny considering he loses most of the fights he's in. This fight proved to be no different and Will was knocked to the ground.

"Will!" Elizabeth rushed over to him.

"Guard the chest!" Without looking at her, he sprang back up and reentered the fight.

"No! 'It's an important prop vital to everyone's well-being', be damned! No one tells me what to do!" She flailed her arms, trying in vain to capture their attention. "This is barbaric! This is no way for grown men to settle…" She tilted her head. "Say…" Pulling out her camera, she took a few shots.

"Oh, yeah. You guys look so great." She snapped a few more. "You're angry, angry! Grr! Like animals. Raw, primal animals fighting for alpha status!" She snapped more. "Oh, you are OWNING the camera, gentlemen! This is the hottest thing ever! Take off your shirts!"

Pintel and Ragetti ran over to check out the action.

"How'd this go all screwy?" Pintel asked.

"Well." Ragetti folded his arms. "Each wants the chest for his self, don't he? I'll sum up the movie for everyone because a few people said this was a confusing story line. Norrington wants to regain his honor by delivering the heart and getting his commission back. Jack wants it to save himself, and Turner there wants to resolve some unfinished business 'twixt him and his twice-cursed father." He cleared his throat.

"This is madness!" they heard Elizabeth exclaim in the background. Say it with me, readers, all together.

THIS IS SPARTA!

"That chest must be worth more than a shiny penny," Pintel noted. "If we was any kind of decent, we'd remove such a temptation from their path." They grinned at each other and moved forward.

"These are all going to be printed out and hung on my wall at home!" Elizabeth shrieked girlishly, reviewing the photos she'd taken. She knew quite a few things she could do while looking at them, she thought with a wicked smile. But now it was time to spice things up and compensate for the lack of sex on the rum runners' island last year. "Oh! Oh! The heat! A girl could be so weakened in this heat she couldn't fight off ANY attempts at ravishment!"

Pretending to faint, she fell right into the sand. Opening one eye, she noticed the fight still going strong. Disgusted, she crossed her arms, determined to wait it out. Sure, someone might get killed, but two out of three isn't bad. She glanced over to the side to catch Pintel and Ragetti lifting the chest. Rolling her eyes, she followed them into the brush.

* * *

**A/N: I do not own all the terrible movies mentioned in this chapter that are in the chest. _Casino _is a decent movie, but I don't it, either. Will and Elizabeth's kiss here is actually slightly better than the Joe/Sharon one in that, but not by much. A lot of sparrabethers like to call out the fact that Will ordered Elizabeth to stay behind and watch the chest and thus shelters her, but I'm actually on his side here. Guarding the chest would have been very important, although it does beg the question "guard it with what" since he did steal her sword. Will's not an abusive boyfriend, guys. He's just a clueless one. Also don't own _300. _**


	31. The Said Banging Turns Epic Scene

What started out as a three-way swordfight with an utter absence of "flynning" soon deteriorated into Norrington kicking sand into Will's face. The three soon found themselves in the ruins of an abandoned church. More spectacular stunt work continued in the form of using the ropes in the bell tower as an elevator.

"Sanctuary!" Quasimodo blurted upon seeing Will fly up to the top of the church.

"Er, always nice to see another Disney product…" Will muttered, saluting. He continued to fight Norrington, not noticing Jack successfully nabbing the key from him.

"I feel a few grams lighter," Norrington noted, turning to discover classic pirate pilfering as the source of his weight loss. He pointed his sword right at him. "Do excuse me while I kill the man who ruined my life."

"Be my guest," Will said.

Thanks, Will, Jack thought, rolling his eyes. He'd remember that. "Let us examine that claim for a moment, shall we? Who was it who, at the very moment you had a notorious pirate safely behind bars, saw fit to free said pirate, and take your…" He shuddered. "…child bride all to his self, eh? So whose fault is it really that you've wound up a pig shit-covered has-been with a dirty wig who takes orders from pirates?"

"Enough!"

Jack somersaulted off the church just in time to dodge the sword, still in possession of the key.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Turner…" Norrington began.

"I know. It was unfortunate you missed him. He left me on the _Flying Dutchman_! Our fragile but budding friendship is all over. I wash my hands of him."

"You bloody idiot! I meant unfortunately, for you, he's right!" Norrington swung at him.

"We were a team, like, two seconds ago!" Will retaliated.

"And to think I lost Elizabeth to YOU. Jesus fucking Christ."

Below, Jack smiled to himself, twirling the key around by its chain. The conversation above was going just as he expected it to, although his money had been on Will being skewered by now. Best swordsman in the series…bah! Unfortunately for Jack, when he is arrogant is usually when the ground falls out from under him. Literally.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," a fangirl cried in the audience, her hands clenched. "Appearing out of a coffin, all these references to time running out, falling into graves? What's going on here?"

Er, nothing. Here. Stare at this photo of Johnny Depp.

"No, no, there is definitely something going on here, something a little more significant than just a death leitmotif…is that Johnny as Sam from _Benny and Joon_?"

Yes, just stare at those large, puppy dog eyes and his adorable hat and let the movie continue.

The wheel attached to the church (I guess the monks had been moonlighting as millers?) broke off, sending Will and Norrington balancing themselves on the top like two confused hamsters. As it rolled, it scooped up Jack, and, running inside the wheel like a good hamster should, the key snagged a nail right as a cross pole bonked Jack in the head, knocking him out of it.

"Where are my cartoon birds?" he asked himself. "Come on, effects team! I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. I deserve stars at the very least."

Meanwhile, Elizabeth, Pintel, and Ragetti ran into their own problems, namely Davy Jones' crewmen. They began their own three-way swordfight, but not with each other. Instead, they tossed the two swords back and forth in protection of the chest.

"Do you know who Baruch Spinoza was, Miss Elizabeth?" Ragetti asked, outrunning two crewmen.

"What?" she asked, skewering two others with a maneuver so agile and forthright it had to have been used in a movie before…some other movie with Orlando Bloom that had a lot of obsolete weapons in it…and nonhuman mooks.

"That's his way of tellin' you he needs a sword, Muppet!" Pintel shouted over to her, rolling his eyes at Ragetti. "Lad's a bit of a showoff!"

Not to be outdone, Elizabeth spun around and, wielding her swords in true badass fashion, proceeded to slice away in slow motion, executing a threatening war cry at the same time.

"That was so cool," the unharmed creature said.

"Oh." She blushed. "I was a few inches off there, I guess. Would you mind stepping a few inches closer? I could do an instant replay for you."

Instead, he grabbed the chest.

"Shit," Elizabeth said. There went her pirate credentials. Losing one of the most important props on the whole series. She'd have to do something VERY pirate-y to make up for it. She stared stupidly at the manifestation of her failure.

"We got to go, Muppet! Retreat to the beach!"

And teaming up with Pintel and Ragetti, no less. It brought tears to her eyes. And no hook-up! Running to the beach, she made silent threats to the screenwriters to make it up to her, maybe do something fantastic like make her in charge of all these pirates.

Not too far away, Jack spotted the creature, a conch shell type, skipping along with the chest under his arm.

"Tra la la," he heard it sing. "Fly's in the buttermilk/Shoo fly shoo/Fly's in the buttermilk/Shoo fly shoo/Fly's in the buttermilk/Shoo fly shoo/Skip to my lou, my darlin'."

Only one way to respond to that, Jack thought, picking up a coconut and hurling it at the conch shell-man as hard as he could. Running over to the chest, he stuck in the key and unlocked it, discovering a slimy-but-otherwise-perfectly-intact heart palpitating. Cocking his head, he watched it for a minute, expecting it to do something. When it didn't, he shrugged and placed it into his vest. Running back to the beach, he raced to the longboat and grabbed his plot device of dirt. Emptying out some of the dirt, he wedged the heart into it just in time to pick up an oar and block the attack of a pufferfish-man.

Just as Elizabeth, Pintel, and Ragetti were making their way into the water, fighting off everyone they could, the wheel from earlier rolled into the water and finally fell over with Will and Norrington in it.

"We're all in the same scene!" Ragetti sniffled, flinging a happy tear from his cheek.

"If only I had some confetti to throw," Pintel sighed, mentally planning the reunion party, which would soon lead into a traveling band. The Pirate Pentacle Plus Two, he envisioned, with himself on the saxophone.

Dazed from the wheel, Will staggered to the longboat but his knees buckled at the halfway point, freeing Norrington to reach it first. Bending down over the boat, he found the Letters of Marque…next to some spilled dirt.

Foul smelling fuck-up or repressed British gentleman again, he pondered, his head bobbing from side to side. James Norrington, eventual scourge of the seven seas or Norrington, James Norrington, otherwise known as Admiral?

_Closing his eyes, he pictured it, himself in a tux, verbally sparring with a bald man with an eye patch and scar. Decapitating him with a cufflink, he cart-wheeled out the window and into an Austin A30 with Elizabeth in the passenger seat. Decked out in a blue evening gown and mink stole, she shot him a lustful smirk._

"_Did you shoot his pussy?" she asked._

"_No, but I'd like to fire into yours," he remarked._

"_Oh, James." She threw her head back and laughed. "You're so much sexier than Will, Jack, or Barbossa could ever hope to be."_

Smiling, Norrington stuffed the heart into his coat. Oh yeah. Don't look so shocked. This is the movie where EVERYONE acts a little bit evil, even repressed British gentlemen.

Will at last reached the longboat and reached for the key still in the chest. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw his fingers brush against the end of the key.

"Hey, Will, what did one oar say to the other?" he asked.

"What?" Will turned around to face him.

"PAYBACK, mother fucker!" Jack slammed the oar into Will's face as hard as he could, knocking him right out.

"Will!" Elizabeth slapped his unconscious body, sprawled over the longboat. "Narcolepsy is not a symptom of Tourettes!"

Whatever works, Jack thought. He, Elizabeth, and Norrington were soon cornered.

"Will! I know it's been a hectic few days, but come on!" She turned him over and slapped his face again. "Man up!"

"Leave him lie…unless you plan on using him to hit something with."

"His hair's too greasy. He'd slip right through my fingers," Elizabeth said, slapping Will one more time. "If you're going to fall asleep whenever the going gets tough, how am I ever supposed to get an orgasm?"

"Okay, I've heard enough," Norrington said, picking up the chest. "You guys get in the boat. I'll draw them off with this."

"Not you, too," Elizabeth sighed. "I mean, I always knew I'd never orgasm with you, but if the only guy that is going to stick around is JACK then…" Her eyes suddenly lit up. "See ya!"

Norrington cut through the beach and back into the forest, dropping the chest right for the crewmen to pick up and return to Davy Jones. Empty.

* * *

**A/N: "Flynning" is a term from the TV tropes website referring to staged swordfights where the opponents actually try to hit each other's swords rather than each other. Notably, POTC doesn't resort to this, as most of the fights really do look like they're trying to kill each other. I do not own The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Baruch Spinoza was a philosopher, but you should know Ragetti well enough by now to know that, lol. I do not own "Skip to My Lou" or anything related to the James Bond franchise, which Norrington's little fantasy here is paying homage to. And in case you don't know why Jack said hitting Will with an oar was payback, watch COTBP again. Go ahead. See who actually screws over who first.**


	32. The Don't Fuck With the Kraken Scene

Our heroes climbed back aboard the _Pearl_, Elizabeth bending over Will and waiting for him to awaken. His eyelashes fluttered and he moaned as his hand flew to the side of his head.

"What did one oar say to the other?" he groaned out loud, trying to jog his memory of where he had heard that.

"Hmm, I don't know. 'Sorry boat that?'" Elizabeth offered.

"That's a good one." Will gave her a slight smile while trying to sit up straight. "I must have taken a bad step. I feel like I just got whacked in the face with an oar."

"That would explain the oar-shaped mark there," she said, pointing to his cheek. "But we have other problems right now. Norrington took the chest to draw those sea things off, you're having a huge conflict of interest with this whole key/chest thing now that you've reunited with your dad, and I'm crossing into Bond girl territory if I'm not careful."

On the other end of the deck, Jack made his way over to the helm.

"What happened to the Commodore?" Gibbs asked.

"You care?"

"Not really. I was just wanting the details for when story time came."

"He fell behind," Jack said.

"My prayers be with him. Best not wallow in our grief. The bright side is that you're back and made it off free and clear and this in no way is going to jinx you from this moment until the end of the movie."

As if on cue, the _Flying Dutchman _surfaced, right alongside the _Pearl_, its captain and crew shooting them menacing looks.

"I'll handle this," Jack said to Gibbs, picking up the plot device of dirt and then yelling over to the other end of the deck, "I said I'll be handling this! Can't have any young blacksmiths throwing a wrench into everything…again. Hey, Jones! Did you know that when octopi get scared they turn white? Well, prepare to lose all color, fish face, because you're about to realize what you lost!"

"I know what HE'S lost," one of the crewmen whispered to Davy Jones.

"Shh! I want to see where he's going with this," Davy Jones said.

"Come to negotiate, eh, you slimy git!" Jack continued, the omniscient audience embarrassed for him. "Look what I got! I got a plot device of dirt/I got a plot device of dirt/And guess what's inside it!"

"Enough!" Davy Jones bellowed, the ship's guns aimed at the _Pearl_. "That's my ex-girlfriend's plot device of dirt! I'd recognize it anywhere!"

"Sir, I think he's implying your heart is in there."

"I knew that."

"Hard to starboard!" Jack ordered, ignoring the fact that in a real sea battle, you would never ever do this because it leaves the stern of your ship wide open to the enemy and your cabin might get blasted, but then there would be no cool kraken stunt work later. Will, Elizabeth, and Gibbs repeated the order, scrambling to find the most useful positions.

"Send his beloved _Pearl _back to the depths," Davy Jones commanded. "Fire all! Let them taste the triple guns!"

Well then, the _Pearl _thought, it's my time to shine! She zoomed across the ocean, smirking that other ships would be feeling the burn going at this speed, but not her. Those years of training and marathon sailing paid off…and made her sexy to boot…and there goes the cabin, she thought, feeling the cannonball go right through it. Even Jack makes mistakes, she told herself.

"We're the faster?" Will noted.

"Against the wind, the _Dutchman _beats us. That's how she takes her prey. But with the wind we rob her advantage," Gibbs explained. "You can tuck that information away for the next installment."

Will did so.

"They're giving up!" Marty shouted, pointing at the _Dutchman_, an ever-shrinking dot on the horizon. The crew cheered, throwing up their hands and square dancing in celebration.

"Careful," Will said, approaching Jack. "Giving up seems extremely out-of-character for Jones."

"Who do you think you're talking to?" Jack said, taken aback.

"I just wanted to remind you that my father's on that ship…"

"I know that also. Jeez. You want to summarize COTBP and teach me how to lace me boots, too?" Jack rolled his eyes.

"Well, fuck, if we can outrun her, we can take her."

"That's what she said," Jack chuckled.

"I'm just saying we should stand and fight."

"Why fight when you can negotiate? All one needs is the proper leverage." He petted the plot device of dirt while, in the background, Gibbs took the opportunity to give Elizabeth a bear hug.

"Whoa!"

"Just seeing what everyone gets so jazzed up about," Gibbs said, letting go of her.

"Aw."

Suddenly, the ship lurched, sweeping the inhabitants right off their feet and the plot device of dirt crashing to the deck. Horrified, Jack scampered down the steps to brush through the sand and shards of glass. "Where is it? Ow." He put one of his fingers to his lips. "Where is the thump-thump? Ow!" He brought another cut finger up to his lips. This was no way to do any kind of searching, he decided.

"We must have hit a reef!" an unknown guy with an afro announced.

"It's not a reef!" Will yelled, running over to where the appetizers for the kraken, er, crewmen, were peering over the side. "Get away from the rail!" He took hold of Elizabeth's shoulders.

"What is it?"

"It's the side of the ship that keeps people from falling overboard," Will explained. "But that's not important right now. It's the kraken! To arms!"

Kraken? Shit. Jack slunk over to the longboats.

"It'll attack to starboard! I've seen it before, and God knows all animals hunt the same way all the time," Will said, gathering the harpoons. "Run out the cannons and wait for my signal."

Half the crew ran down below decks to the cannons, the others staying on deck, readying the harpoons. Within minutes, the enormous tentacles slid up the side, the suckers brushing over the wood.

"Easy, boys! Wait for it….wait for it…"

"Will?" Elizabeth murmured, realizing her harpoon would probably just feel like a paper cut on the massive thing.

"Not now, Elizabeth. I'm mad with power. Wait for it…"

"Will…" Elizabeth warned, remembering the last time Will had been mad with power. One guest at one of Father's parties innocently asked how swords were made and the next thing everyone knew, Will had procured two and had pinned the poor guy to the wall.

"Wait for it…"

"Will!"

"Okay, sheesh. Fire!"

"OW! ANNOYING PECKERS!" the kraken moaned, disappearing back into the water. Yessiree. What makes my parody different from other parodies? My kraken TALKS!

"It'll be back," Will said, rushing back up to the deck. "We have to get off the ship."

"There's no more boats," Elizabeth noted, fighting off panic. That's odd, she thought. Staving off all the sexual tension earlier, she busied herself counting the longboats. There were plenty. Logic dictated there should have at least been one left…

"Pull the grates! Get all the gunpowder onto the net in the cargo hold." Grabbing a rifle, he handed it off to Elizabeth. "This is making it up to you for stealing your sword earlier. You know me and swords. Whatever you do, don't miss."

"Wait! You forgot to say what the plan was!" she shouted after him, but he was gone. Hurrying after him, she bumped into Cotton. Maybe the plan was to shoot Cotton? It seemed a little dramatic. "Step to," she said to him, glancing out at the ocean, a longboat off in the distance. "Wha…Jack, you coward!" she whispered to herself, seeing Jack rowing away. Well, that was that. He didn't love her. Any sex would have been a one-night stand. Probably wouldn't have even engaged in any foreplay, she told herself through tears, just as the ship rocked again.

"Not good," Marty gasped.

General chaos broke out on the deck, at least that's what it looked like from Jack's point of view. He was a safe distance away, could see the tentacles sweeping up and curling around things that weren't him, but something didn't feel right. Opening his compass, he saw a small piece of paper folded up in it. Unrolling it, he raised an eyebrow at a crude drawing of a naked woman. Beside it was an arrow with the words "Me (Elizabeth)" above it.

He had some thinking to do…

Back on the ship, the kraken was taking men down like your drunken aunt takes hotdog weenies off the appetizer tray at family parties. Will, channeling every girl in horror movies ever, tripped and got his ankle caught in the net, which now held all the gunpowder on the ship.

"Shoot! Elizabeth, shoot!" he shouted down to her.

"That's such mild language for you!" she complimented him.

"No! Shoot! Literally!"

Just as Elizabeth took aim, a tentacle wrapped up her leg and pulled her down to the deck with a thud. Before she could even blink, she was being dragged through the cabin. Digging her fingernails into the wooden planks, she shrieked, bracing herself for the horror about to come.

"Die! Die, you son of a bitch! Throw off the circle of life, will ye? Take that!" Ragetti, axe in hand, hacked away at the tentacle until it was severed from the rest of the beast.

"Thanks!" Elizabeth called, heading back out to the deck.

"Oh. She was in trouble?" Ragetti asked himself.

Hustling back to the deck, Elizabeth scanned it for the rifle. If only there had been time to tie a ribbon around it! A stray tentacle swiped at it, sending it just at the edge of the top step leading up to the helm. The rollicking ship knocked her into the side, but she still clamored her way up, so close. A shadow loomed over her. A boot stood on the rifle.

Jack!

He scooped up the rifle, the barrel of it following the kraken's erratic movements. Elizabeth grabbed onto his leg, waiting to hear a shot.

"What the hell are you doing down there?" He squirmed. "I really, really want to, but this is neither the time nor the place…"

"Just shoot it!"

Relieved Elizabeth also did not think it was the time nor the place for any hanky-panky, Jack squinted one eye shot and fired into one of the barrels right as Will freed himself from the net. A thundering explosion resounded, sending the kraken retreating…for now.

* * *

**A/N: I don't really know much about sailing, much less sea battle strategies. The bit about the "hard to starboard" actually being a stupid thing to do comes directly from T&T's DMC commentary. They knew it was stupid, but the Rule of Cool was too important to ignore and I guess they had a fetish for Keira Knightley getting dragged by that tentacle through the cabin... "That's what she said" is supposedly from the TV show _The Office_, but I'm pretty sure people had been using it before the many incarnations of the show emerged. I just wanted to somehow point out that the "if we can outrun her we can take her" is the most sexual thing Will has ever said. **


	33. The Kiss of Death Has Lying Lips Scene

One at a time, the crew emerged, soaked and smudged from the gunpowder. Marty ran over to the railing, climbed atop a crate, and peered over the side.

"Did we kill it?"

"I don't know. Keep leaning over like that and we'll all find out," Gibbs said, rolling his eyes. The stories never mentioned why the kraken had yens for humans, much less a midget, while there were so many large and delicious sea creatures it could be chomping down on even as we speak. Glancing around, he saw Jack making his way down the steps, rifle still in hand. "Captain! I propose we throw Marty overboard."

"We might need him later," Jack said solemnly. "He's the only one small enough to crawl into a warren and nab a few rabbits for us when we reach land. Into the longboats, everyone! _Black Pearl _crew headcount. One!" He tapped his head and waited. "I said one!"

"Two."

"Three."

All eight counted off, leaving Jack satisfied, although he noted their fearful expressions at the longboat. Surely they hadn't all done the math and knew he had ditched them, leaving them all to die gruesome, agonizing deaths? No. No one had made note of there being no more boats left earlier. Smooth sailing was ahead.

"That's a lot of water," Ragetti gulped.

"We have to try," Will said. "We can get away as it takes down the _Pearl_. We'll be fine, guys! This is an animal we're talking about. It's dumb. Now, we've already established that wherever it THINKS Jack is…that's where it goes. Otherwise it would have left that nameless Greek fishing ship alone from earlier. So it will take down the ship and believe it's done its job." He stood proudly with his hands on his hips. "Now, I've done the math, and I've concluded since there is a longboat left that wasn't there before, someone must have left and then come back."

Jack reached for his pistol. It was as good an excuse as any to shoot the eunuch.

"My theory on this is that it was Cotton's parrot."

Jack lodged his pistol back into its holster.

"I can forgive that, since it is the nature of animals to flee at the sign of danger. Okay!" He clapped his hands together. "Now that we have our plan, there is no need for anyone to linger and force anyone into staying behind against his or her will. No need whatsoever. In fact, it would only create a whole bunch of trust issues and complicated relationships on down the road, and no writer wants to spend his time writing the final installment of a franchise addressing things like that. Let's load up!"

"Aye, abandon ship. Abandon ship or abandon hope." Gibbs nodded and pulled out his flask. Liquid hope. He and the others climbed down one at a time into the longboat, except Elizabeth.

She watched Jack, his back to her, lovingly tracing the ship with his hands.

"So," she said, sauntering over to him. "We never hook up, you lie to me, and you abandon me to the regrettable fate of kraken chow, and yet I still want you, more than ever."

"It's to be expected, love. I did come back for you, you know." He flashed a sad grin.

"Why is that?" She swayed, hands in her pockets.

"Guess the very idea of hooking up with you is worth dying for. I saw the nudie draw-ring."

"Careful. There's some bullshit on your lips," she said, melting inside.

"How about you lick it off then?"

At last! A flock of doves take off in flight! Fireworks explode in all their Technicolor glory! Champagne bottles uncork by themselves! The heavens open and the heavenly host burst into song! Of course, Jack and Elizabeth were all oblivious to this, sharing a passionate kiss that was giving every sparrabeth fangirl a System Overload. Even the _Pearl _threw some confetti into the sea.

Well, goodbye virgin alarm, she thought to herself, activating the self-destruct mechanism on the red button labeled "Virgin Alarm" behind her figurehead.

"Hey, that's a pretty cool flock of doves over--- what the fuck?" Will did a double take. Was that? Could it? Did that…wha--?

"Prepare to cast off!" Gibbs shouted, obscuring Will's view. "Come on, Will, step to! You look like you just saw your fiancée sucking face with Johnny Depp!"

Back on the deck, Elizabeth managed to back Jack into the mast, still kissing him with such an unhurried wildness it caused Jack's eyes to roll back into his head, even though they were closed. Only the cold click of shackles woke him from such a depp, I mean, deep, reverie. Snapping his eyes open, he could feel his hand chained to the mast. He broke into a dazed grin.

"It's after you, not the ship," Elizabeth said, eyes hardening to block out the seeping tears. "And other random excuses. It's just been one mixed message after the other, and, blah, blah, blah, bottom line—I need from you something that shows you're committed and this isn't just going to be some fling."

"Marry me," was all Jack said, still smiling at her in spite of what was about to come. She ran off without looking back into the longboat.

"Where's Jack?" Will asked with an accusing stare.

"He elected to stay behind and give us a chance."

"Didn't he listen to Will's monologue?" Gibbs wondered out loud, not noticing Will and Elizabeth's stare-down. "There was no need to do that. Something's not adding up. But I suppose if he told you that was his plan…and you're trustworthy." He patted Elizabeth's back. "I mean, the worst you've ever done is get the guy drunk and burn up an island. It would have to take some pretty heavy unresolved sexual tension and extenuating circumstances to get you to do something really bad."

"Just row," Elizabeth grunted, already feeling her insides churning with nausea and guilt.

As they rowed away, the _Pearl _lashed out some strong words and then focused on Jack.

"Well," she thought. "Just you and me now. I'd say this was romantic, but there's something really massive swimming right under me."

"Bugger," Jack said. "Bugger, bugger, bugger!" He unsheathed his sword and reached for a fallen lamp with it, letting it shatter against the mast. He let the oil drip onto his trapped hand until he could slip out, wondering if it was his fault for liking a woman into bondage.

"Wait a second. How did a fallen lamp not result in me being set on fire?" the _Pearl _thought in a panic.

"That's what you're concerned about right now?" Jack asked, flexing his hand, not hearing the waters part, making way for the kraken slinking its way up the ship. "You should be worrying about me about to take a literal dive off of you and swim for the longboat. I can still do it." He turned to come face-to-face with the kraken's yonic mouth, each tooth lubricated and giving off its own pungent odor.

"THIS IS FOR MAKING ME WORK FOR MY MEAL!" it bellowed, sliming him better than any Nickelodeon game show ever could. In the process, it spat out a familiar-looking leather hat.

"Oh!" Jack picked it up. "No pain, no gain," he said to the kraken, readying his sword, wondering how many calories he was. "Hello, Beastie. I hope you took your Pepto Bismal before you showed up because I'm about to give you the runs!"

In true hero fashion, he swiped right into the dark abyss surrounding him.

* * *

**A/N: The idea of Jack doing a headcount is borrowing from my (not) funny joke of doing a family headcount whenever we go anywhere, even though right now it's just my husband, my son, and me. If you think I'm slightly riffing on T&T in this chapter for not giving us the closure we so desperately wanted to a few issues lingering over into AWE, you are correct. The Virgin Alarm is from _Spaceballs_, which is a great parody. Jack's throwaway line about giving the kraken the runs is from two things. One is an interview with Johnny Depp in which he joked in his subtle, shy way that everything the kraken eats eventually turns into…well, it gets gross from there. Second is the fantastic movie _Dog Soldiers_, in which the character Spoon says to a werewolf (long story), "I hope I give you the shits, you fucking wimp." It's too glorious a line to not parody.**


	34. The Scene Where Seeing is Believing

All right, calm down. Everybody just calm down. Have all the Jack fangirls been assigned their willabeth chaperones? Good. Ladies, stick with your chaperone until the trailer for _At World's End _premieres. Willabethers, you're on suicide watch, so seriously, no ditching your Jack fangirl counterpart to go off and write some fan fiction or make yet another music video about your favorite couple using Celine Dion's songs.

After the girls in the theater were all calmed, their hankies soiled with tears, they realized they did want to see how the rest of the movie played out.

The _Flying Dutchman _floated in the distance, watching the kraken drag the _Black Pearl _below, notably not crushing it.

"Jack Sparrow, our debt is settled," Davy Jones whispered.

"There's no proof he's on that ship," the coral-looking guy said. "I mean, he'd have to have been crazy to stay onboard." They all looked at him. "Seriously! The only way he'd have been on that ship is if he was getting some serious action or something." The blank stares curled into lurking threats. "I'll just shut up."

Davy Jones turned back towards the sea, puzzled at this sensation he was feeling that all was not well.

"Open the chest," he said with apprehensive eyes. "Open the chest! I need to see it!"

The crew opened the chest, revealing nothing but its emptiness.

"Damn you, Jack SPARROW OR WHOEVER RIPPED THE HEART RIGHT OUT FROM UNDER ME! LONG DRAWN OUT NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"


	35. The Bad Guys Huddle Scene

"The last of our ships has returned," Mercer said, entering Beckett's office, his foot in a bear trap.

"Doesn't that hurt, Mr. Mercer?"

"This?" He lifted the chain. "No, it's great. But those ships no one ever sees picked up a man adrift at sea."

Concealing his hands underneath the desk, Beckett opened a drawer and pulled out his condoms. In the left drawer, a Marvin Gaye mixed tape was waiting to be played and in the second, the lubricant. Cracking his knuckles, he sighed in anticipation. Jack Sparrow was not going to know what hit him.

"He had these," Mercer said, dropping the Letters of Marque on the desk.

"I took the liberty of filling in my name," came a voice. James Norrington, led by two soldiers, entered, disheveled and with an air of rebellion about him. Not Jack, but it would do…nicely, Beckett thought, taking in the chiseled nose and jaw, the classical features, the bright eyes that promised wit and passion behind them.

"If you intend to claim these," Beckett said, "then you must have something to trade. Like your dignity. Do you have the compass?"

"Better."

"Is it an iron maiden?" Mercer asked, biting his nails in suspense. "Or some thumbscrews? Oh! I know! Not the compass Lord Beckett's been after but a compass that has the arrow fling up and stab you in the head! Oh, give it to me! Give it to me!" He ran over to Norrington and straddled his leg.

"Mercer! Stop humping our guest. Down!" Beckett sprayed him with a bottle of Windex. "What is it you have?"

"The heart of Davy Jones." Norrington dropped a bundle on the desk, a clear thumping sound emitting from it. The flies changed course and hovered over it.

"However did you get it?" Beckett's chin rested on his hands, elbows on the table. If he seduced Jack for it, he would just have to shove everything on the desk to the floor…

"Uh." Norrington stepped back after noticing the worshipful gleam in Beckett's eyes. Glancing back over at Mercer, now humping the bear trap, he licked his lips and searched for the right words. "Where are all the women in the East India Trading Company?"

"It's a special kind of Company," Beckett said.

"Long drawn-out noooooooooooooooo!"

* * *

**A/N: Can you tell by now that, even though I'm a hard core sparrabether, I have a slight crush on Jack Davenport? I don't own Marvin Gaye's songs or Windex. Only one scene left!**


	36. The Cliffhanging Finale Scene

**A/N: And so this parody comes to an end. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, especially Florencia7. If you have not left a review, please do so. They mean so much to writers. **

* * *

With nowhere else to go, our sullen heroes rowed back upriver to Tia Dalma's shack, so familiar it seemed like a safe haven amongst the terrors of the sea. The only sound besides the gentle buzz of the fireflies was the mournful humming of several people who had waded out into the water holding candles.

"There's no time for us/There's no place for us/What is this thing/That builds our dreams/Yet slips away from us/Who wants to live forever/Who wants to live forever," they sang.

Tia Dalma welcomed them in, already aware of the dreadful news. Clearing out some of her clutter by just shoving it to the floor, she offered everyone a seat, and soon a tray of drinks was being passed around.

"Again the cold and the sorrow," she said when she offered one to Elizabeth, her eyes deep and knowing. Elizabeth's could not meet them.

Will could not stand the silence, the indecision all around him. All he could do was stick his knife into the table multiple times.

"I know you're pretty bummed," Tia Dalma said, kneeling next to him. "But that table was kind of expensive…"

"Sorry. I am chipping away it," he answered carelessly.

"You know, I know you are thinking that with the _Pearl_, you could have captured the devil and set free your father's soul." She took his hand and flipped it over, studying the lines on his palm. "When you were eight, you had to go to the bathroom really badly at recess, so you ran inside, but didn't make it to the urinals. Your mother had to come by and give you a second set of pants."

Will's eyes widened in horror.

"When you were eighteen, you wanted to ask Elizabeth to the prom but were too afraid, so the nice lady in the milliner shop next door threw her morbidly obese second cousin at you. You appreciated the gesture, but the fact she was also an albino with a cannabis leaf-shaped growth on her neck prevented you from having a good time."

"Would you stop?" Will pulled his hand away. "I never liked psychics. Anyway, what's it matter what I wanted? The _Black Pearl _is gone, along with her captain."

That was the perfect opening, Gibbs thought, tossing his _Extemporaneous Eulogies for Dummies _into the river. "Aye, and already the world seems a bit less bright. He fooled us all till the end, but I guess that honest streak finally won out. Yes, as sure as no one in this room has any relationship problems, Jack decided of his own volition to stay behind, sacrificing himself so the rest of us could get away. No one made that decision for him. No one dared take such a sacred thing as human life and pooh-poohed it, tricking him in a treacherous way into staying on board, thusly killing him in cold blood. Not any of us, his friends, even, dare I say it, his loved ones?"

Elizabeth burst into tears.

"Never another like Captain Jack!" Pintel raised his glass.

"'If a man begins with certainties, he shall end in doubts. But if he will content to begin with doubts, he shall end in certainties.' Francis Bacon," Ragetti said. Pintel gave him a glare. "Er, to Captain Jack! A gentleman of fortune, he was!"

"He was a good man," Elizabeth uttered, trying to lift her glass to her lips with an unsteady hand.

Will looked back over at her, ready to ask just how good, but thought better of it.

"If there was anything could be done to bring him back, Elizabeth…" he started. Her eyes looked ready to fire daggers at him.

"What an odd thing to say," she snapped. Then her eyes widened in revelation. "That was the exact same thing you said when my turtle died! Is that your fallback? 'If there was anything could be done…' Why don't you go out and do a successful rain dance and then literally move a mountain and then we'll talk."

"It is an odd thing to say," Gibbs said when Will looked to him for defense.

"Not so odd," Tia Dalma said. "Would you do it? What would any of you be willing to do? Would you sail to the ends of the earth and beyond to fetch back witty Jack and him precious _Pearl_?"

"Actually, I was just trying to do some consoling," Will muttered, but no one heard him.

"Aye!" Gibbs said.

Fuck, Will thought.

"Aye!" Pintel repeated.

"Aye!" Ragetti said.

"Aye!" Cotton's parrot screeched.

"Anyone know how Marty feels?" they all asked each other, searching the room for Marty.

"I'm minding the boat," he called from outside. "And aye!"

"Yes," Elizabeth said, tears still lingering in her eyes. She'd make it up to Jack, she promised. The next installment would be epic, something unexpected. A musical!

"Aye," Will said.

"All right!" Tia Dalma shot her fist up into the air. "Cool! Awesome! But if you're going to brave the weird and haunted shores at World's End…"

"What's this 'you're' shit?" Elizabeth interrupted suddenly, knowing how valuable a voodoo woman/potential goddess could be. "You're coming with us! Plus, I need a gal-pal."

"Er okay," Tia Dalma said. "As I was saying, you will need a captain who knows those waters." She turned her head toward the staircase.

The crew slowly made their way to the stairs, frozen in shock at the sight of the man before them.

"What?" Barbossa said, glancing behind him. "I know. I was surprised this place had an upstairs too! It looks so small from outside!" JTM ran up onto his shoulder just as he bit into a crisp green apple, its juices running down his beard. "So! Anything happen while I was dead?"

END

* * *

**A/N: Who Wants to Live Forever is a song by Queen, one of my favorite bands. Am I the only one who finds the "if there were anything to be done to bring him back" line just a little awkward? Why would you say that to someone? The only reason is that it serves as the perfect lead-in for Tia Dalma to convince them to go to World's End. The sequel to this is the musical I've written for AWE, so there will be no "affectionate parody" of AWE in the near future. Once again, JTM stands for Jack the Monkey and I am willofthewisp, thanking you once again for reading. I hoped you had as great a time as I did writing it and please, please leave a review to tell me what (if anything) made you laugh.**


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